


Adventures in Babysitting

by cygnaut



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Baby Mutants, Crossover, Gen, Kid Fic, Protective Erik, Protective Steve, Timeline What Timeline, Unaccompanied Minors, background Erik/Charles, moving the Avengers to the 60s/70s because why not?, negative mutant role models
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:18:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 49,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cygnaut/pseuds/cygnaut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jean, Scott, and Ororo get in trouble and have nowhere to turn, they call on the last person they probably should—Magneto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Everything would have been fine if it weren't for the lightning. Up to that point, their impromptu busking has gone surprisingly well. Juggling is easy for Jean now after hours of telekinesis practice with Professor X, and when Ororo gets in on the act it's pretty dang cute.

The corner of Central Park where they're standing is full of mothers and nannies taking young children out for a midafternoon walk. Jean and Ororo are soon surrounded by a small crowd of tiny faces, many of them tugging on their guardians' skirts asking for a coin to give to the jugglers. Scott's contribution is mainly staying out of their way and thanking anyone who tosses money in Jean's knit cap on the ground.

They’ve only been at it for twenty minutes or so before Jean's hat is sagging under the weight of nickels and dimes. There are even a few quarters, and a man in a tan leather jacket hands Scott a shiny fifty-cent piece. Surely they must have enough money for the train by now. Jean is getting ready to stop when she looks down at Ororo and sees her eyes have gone white like they've rolled back in her head.

"Is she okay?" a woman nearby asks and at that same moment Jean loses control, dropping all five of the tennis balls in motion between them.

"Ororo, no, don’t—!"

But it's already too late. The sky directly above them darkens, going from an overcast fall day to a threatening storm cloud in moments. There's a brilliant flash and a booming clap so loud that Jean ducks her head and covers her ears. A series of cracks follows the bolt of lightning, like wood popping in a fire. The lightning must have hit the tree directly above them and it causes a flurry of orange leaves to tumble down, followed by another ominous crack as a large branch gives way and drops out of the canopy.

Jean gets knocked to the ground, landing painfully on her knees as Scott slams into her side. She's annoyed at first, thinking he fell on accident, but then she looks back and sees the tree branch lying on the pavement exactly where she was standing a moment ago.

If it were only lightning, they probably would have been able to get away. No one would think to blame three kids who just happened to be standing coincidentally near to a freak lightning strike. No, they would have been fine if it weren't for Scott.

Jean is still recovering from her fall when hears a familiar crackle of power just to the side of her head and then there's another blinding bolt of light, red this time. Jean hits the pavement again under her own power and there's a scream from somewhere nearby.

When she looks up Scott's face is bare and he has one hand over his eyes, unsuccessfully trying to keep the glowing red energy at bay while his other hand gropes blindly along the sidewalk.

"Jean, help, my glasses!" he says unnecessarily, another red beam escaping through the gaps in his fingers. "I can't find my glasses!"

Jean feels the energy beam pass her, the strength of it blowing past with a gust of displaced air that knocks her hair back. Thankfully, most of the crowd fled after the lightning strike and no one is standing nearby. The beam shoots across the sidewalk and hits a bench, toppling it over and snapping the wooden back in half.

"Keep your eyes closed!" Jean says. She turns over leaves and debris with her hands, searching for a sparkle of ruby quartz among the orange and yellow of autumn.

"Here they are!" Ororo shouts, jumping over the fallen tree branch. She lifts Scott's glasses high over her head and rushes to hand them to Jean with a triumphant look.

Jean snatches them from her and puts them in Scott's hands, ducking down again as he fumbles to get them on his face. Several new bolts of red energy escape out the sides and the poor tree next to them loses a few more branches before Scott finally gets his glasses fixed back on his face.

Jean brushes leaves out of her hair and turns to glare at Ororo. "What the heck were you thinking!"

Ororo has the decency to look contrite. "Sorry, I didn't mean to! I wanted to make it sunny again. I thought people might go inside if it looked like rain and… I don't know what happened."  


"You shouldn't have even tried, Ororo!" Jean says, putting her hands on her hips. "This always happens."

"Does not!" Ororo says, glaring up at Jean.

"Yes it does. Remember when you tried to make a rainbow on your birthday?"

"That was _one_ time!"

"Uh, guys?" Scott says, trying to get their attention. Jean ignores him.

"Or what about the time you wanted to make a snowman and we ended up snowed in for days?"

"That wasn't even me! The Professor said it was ad—ad- _merse_ weather patterns!" Ororo says, stumbling over the big word.

"He was just saying that to be nice," Jean replies. "Because you’re such a baby."

" _You're_ a baby!" Ororo says, putting her hands on her hips to match Jean's stance.

"Jean— _guys_." Scott is tugging on her arm now so Jean finally turns to look at him and freezes. There are two men standing behind Scott, the man in the tan leather jacket from earlier and a police officer in full uniform.

"What's all this then?" the officer asks. He has a strong Brooklyn accent and a deeply suspicious expression on his face. He also has one hand resting on his hip just above his nightstick.

 Jean squares her shoulders. She should be able to handle this. She's not just some kid, she's Marvel Girl. And Marvel Girl is practically an adult. She takes a deep breath and opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She can't think of anything to say.

"Did you see the lightning?" Ororo asks, pushing past Jean and throwing up her hands. "It came out of nowhere! We almost died!" 

"I've never seen red lightning before," the officer replies, eyes narrowing underneath the brim of his hat. He looks toward Scott, whose face starts turning red to match his glasses. "Funny thing that."

"I know, wasn't it _weird_?" Ororo says, shouting like she thinks she can distract the police officer through the sheer volume of her voice.

"Seriously weird," Jean says, her voice squeaking slightly. "I think maybe we should go inside. Or go home. We should probably go home."

Scott nods frantically at her, and they both raise their arms and lift one foot, miming getting ready to leave. They look expectantly at the police officer. He does not look impressed.

"How about a walk over to the station instead?" he says.

"Uh," Jean says. "The thing is—we're late—for, um, things. So we should really—"

The man in the leather jacket clears his throat, interrupting the officer and cutting off Jean's completely unconvincing lie. He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a black wallet from the inner pocket, opening it and showing an ID badge inside to the officer. "Sorry to do this, but I think it would be better if I handled things from here."

The officer does a double take, squinting at man's badge and then back at his face. The man isn't in uniform and he doesn’t look like a policeman to Jean, but maybe he's a detective. He has short brown hair and a clean-shaven face, and he looks genuinely sorry for pulling rank. He also looks downright nice, like he could be a teacher or a librarian. Whoever he is, Jean suspects they'll be safer with him than with the belligerent police officer. 

"Who are you?" Scott asks. The man hands him his badge in response, and Scott's mouth opens in surprise. "You're with _S.H.I.E.L.D.?_ "

"What?" Jean says. She grabs the wallet out of Scott's hands to see for herself. On the left side is a gold badge that shows a stylized eagle holding an emblem that looks like the American flag. She's never seen a S.H.I.E.L.D badge before, but this one looks pretty official. On the other side is an ID card that identifies the man as  _Steve Rogers, Specialist._

Ororo pulls on Jean's wrist, tugging her hand downward so she can see too. "Wow, do you know the Avengers?" she asks, her eyes lighting up as she looks back at the man—Mr. Rogers.

"Uh, sort of," Rogers says. "Say, how'd you three like to come visit Stark Tower?"

"What?" Jean ask while at the same moment Ororo shouts " _Seriously!?"_

The police officer shakes his head at this, apparently deciding he's had enough. "They're all yours then," he says, turning to go and grumbling loudly under his breath. "What’s the world coming to? Spooks and superheroes everywhere. Kids with laser eyes… pfh!"

Ororo, meanwhile, is bouncing up and down on her toes in excitement. "Do you know Thor _,_ Mr. Rogers?" she asks, giving him a look so intense that he looks slightly taken aback.  

"Uh, sure, I've met Thor," Rogers says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ororo gasps. She's so excited she has to do a little dance, jumping in place as her whole body trembles. "Wow, _Thor_!"

"Yeah, he's a good guy. And you can just call me Steve."

"Thanks, Mr. Steve! Can we really come with you to see the Avengers?"

"I'm not sure any of them are in today, but we can go see." He nods his head, signaling for them to follow him toward the south side of the park. "Stark is off at some conference and I think Hawkeye and Black Widow are still on a mission, but I can show you around. And then we can see about getting you home."

"Cool!" Jean says at the same moment Scott says "Neat" and they both start following Steve.

"Wait!" Ororo shouts, pointing behind them. "The money!"

"Oh!" They rush back to the damaged tree and search until they find Jean's forgotten hat buried under the leaves on the ground.

"Why were you guys collecting money, anyway?" Steve asks as he kneels down to help them scoop up the scattered coins. "School fundraiser?"

"Um, no…" Jean says, trailing off.

"We needed money for the train," Scott explains. "We didn't have enough for tickets home."

Jean looks away, embarrassed. They _did_ have enough money, until she got pickpocketed.

"Oh," Steve says. "Well, next time you know you can always ask a police officer for help. It can be dangerous to go around begging for money like that. If you ask the wrong person they might try to take advantage of you."

Scott looks down. "Sorry," he says. "I guess we didn't think." It wasn't even his idea, but then he's always too ready to take the blame for everything.

Once they have all the coins gathered up and the leaves picked out, they have nearly five dollars. It's more than they had before, but not actually enough to buy three train tickets back to Westchester. They split the money evenly between the three of them since it's too heavy for one person to carry. Jean slips a few of the coins into her shoe instead of her purse, just in case she gets robbed again. She taps her left shoe on the ground, shifting her toes around inside of it. She already has a scrap of paper tucked inside that one and it's starting to feel crowded. 

Steve has a car, thankfully, so they don't have to take the subway again and spend any of their hard-earned nickels. He drives down Fifth Avenue and they all hang their heads out of the windows to stare at the stores and the people walking down the street. There are lots of women in tall shoes and expensive-looking jewelry. "Ladies who lunch" as her mother would say.

Steve turns down East 44th Street and pulls into a parking garage that doesn't have any signs on the outside. The door opens automatically as he pulls up and they pass through a security gate on the inside. The guards all seem to know Steve and they wave him through without making him stop. He drives down a few levels and pulls into a parking spot with his name on it right next to the elevator.

"Nice digs," Scotts says, looking around. The parking garage is the cleanest one Jean has ever seen, full of smooth grey concrete and shiny metal walls.

Steve has to press his thumb on a fingerprint reader to get the elevator doors to open. "Wow," Ororo says, impressed. "Do the Avengers get parking spots too?"

Steve shrugs, looking thoughtful as he follows them into the elevator. "Well, Stark has a whole private floor for his cars, but I'm not sure if any of the others drive. They probably just borrow a S.H.I.E.L.D. car if they need one."

The elevator ride doesn't take very long, but Jean's ears pop on the way up. When the doors open they come out in a big open room with floor-to-ceiling windows. They must be fifty floors up, looking north toward the park and midtown. Ororo runs up to the windows and presses her face against the glass. Jean follows more slowly, her stomach turning slightly when she looks down and sees just how far away the ground is.

"Do you think we can see the mansion from here?" Ororo asks. Jean kicks her ankle and glances back at Steve, but he's talking to Scott and doesn't seem to have heard. There's a large open kitchen along the back wall of the room and comfortable looking couches on the other side in a living room area.

"Do you mind waiting here a minute?" Steve asked. "I'm going to check if any of the Avengers are around. There's food in the fridge if you're hungry."

Someone's stomach rumbles in response and Jean glances over to see Scott blushing. Steve smiles. "Have anything you want. There should be some sandwiches and other leftovers."

After he leaves they investigate the fridge, finding it is absolutely packed with food. There's fresh produce and big tubs of pasta and potato salad and even pre-wrapped sandwiches like from a grocery store. Jean passes food out to Scott and Ororo and then stuffs several extra sandwiches into her purse. They'll probably need them later on the train. Ororo also finds a package of cookies in one of the cabinets but Jean makes her save them for _after_ she finishes lunch. 

They're still scrounging through the cabinets when the elevator door opens with a loud chime. Jean looks up, expecting Steve, and drops the orange in her hand. The man stepping into the kitchen is wearing a very familiar blue suit with a white star on the chest.

"Captain America!" Ororo shouts, startling Scott who is still searching in the far reaches of the fridge. He hits his head on one of the shelves as he turns, knocking several bottles and containers out onto the floor. A half-empty bottle of milk shatters and Scott jumps away cursing. "Shoot!"

Jean scrambles to grab a dish towel, throwing it down over the shattered glass and quickly spreading milk on the floor. Ororo tries to pick up a large shard of glass but Jean grabs her arm to stop her.

"No, let me get it!" Captain America says. "Don't touch the glass." He opens a closet and produces a broom. And that's how they all end up apologizing as Captain America cleans up the broken glass and milk.

"No, no, it's my fault for showing up so suddenly," he says, kneeling down to sweep the last of the shards into a dustpan.

"What happened to _Steve?"_ Ororo asks, putting an odd amount of emphasis on the name. Jean looks at her in confusion and catches her winking at Captain America.

"Uh, Steve had to go," Captain America says, looking down as he sweeps the floor. "I ran into him in the hallway and he asked me to check in on you."

"Are you the real Captain America?" Ororo asks.

"I am," Captain America says.

"Like—the real guy from World War II?" Scott asks. "Not just someone wearing the suit?"

"The real guy," Captain America says, smiling like he gets that question a lot.

"You don't look that old," Ororo points out. Jean elbows her.

Captain America laughs as he empties the dustbin into the garbage can. "Thank you. I don't age the way most people do. Side effect of Dr. Erskine's super soldier treatment. So I heard you kids were juggling for money in the park?"

Jean feels embarrassed about it now, although at the time it seemed like such a good idea. She and Scott exchange a look, neither of them sure what to say.

Ororo, on the other hand, has never hesitated to speak in her life. "Jean was carrying our money, but she got pickpocketed on the subway," she explains. She rolls her eyes like this was a very stupid rookie mistake on Jean's part. Ororo loves to treat Jean and Scott like rubes who don't know their way around the city like she does.

Jean glares at her. It wouldn't have mattered if the bank let them take money out of the Professor's account. But the clerk said they couldn't withdraw money without an ID or an adult to vouch for them, and Jean was too nervous to stick around and talk to the manager. The clerk was already suspicious of the check they brought with the Professor's forged signature.

They wandered into Central Park for lack of anywhere better to go, and that was where they saw the musicians playing for money, which gave Jean the idea. They found a few old tennis balls by the tennis courts north of the reservoir and then set themselves up on one of the busiest paths in the park. It totally would have worked if not for the lightning.

"So, you see," Ororo finishes. "We know how to get home, we just don't have enough money."

"Right," Scott says, stepping in. "We need to take the train back to Westchester. There's a 3:45 we could catch if we left now. If S.H.I.E.L.D. could advance us a small loan, we would totally pay you back!"

Captain America frowns. "You all live in Westchester? I don't know, I'd feel better if I talked to one of your parents before I put you on the train."

"No!" Jean says. "I mean, our parents don't. Um, we all go to school there," she says, falling back on their usual cover story. "That's why we came to the city—a field trip."

"Your school sent you on a field trip without any adults?" Captain America asks, looking even more concerned.

"No, I mean—we, uh…" Jean trails off.

"We're not _babies_ ," Ororo says. "We come to the city all the time!" This is not entirely accurate. One of the older kids has always come with them as a chaperon before, but it _could_ be true. Jean's seen younger kids than them riding the subway alone.

"It was a free day," Scott says. "We went to the Met for—research. And then we were going to catch the train so we'd be home before dinnertime. Our teachers are probably wondering where we are." 

"Yeah, a free day, and we need to be back before curfew," Jean adds, her mind whirling, barely able to keep up with the lies her mouth is spitting out. "So we really have to go. Now. It would be bad if we missed a check in. Our Professor might think something happened to us."

Captain America raises one eyebrow under his cowl, not looking like he believes her. "In that case, you'd better call your school _and_ your parents and let them know what happened." He turns and opens a panel on the wall that Jean didn't notice before. Behind it is a push button phone, the expensive kind with programmable buttons like she's only seen before in fancy hotels or the Professor's office. He pulls it out of the niche and sets it down on the kitchen counter.

Scott and Ororo both look at Jean. She's the only one with parents they can call. She takes a step toward the phone, her stomach sinking. Her mom and dad are going to want to talk to the Professor when they hear what happened, and then the whole mess will come out _and_ they'll blow the school's cover. 

She looks back at Captain America, trying to sound perfectly reasonable and not at all like she's lying. "It's just that, I don't think anyone will be in the school's office right now. It's a free day for the teachers too. And my parents won't be at home either. And I don't know if I can get my dad at work, and it's, like, the longer we're gone, the worse it looks, you know? So probably it would be better if we just left right now to catch the train. Then no one has to worry!"

"Try," Captain America says, not looking like he's buying it. "I can't release three minors without an adult. I need to know that you have a safe way to get home."

Jean takes a deep breath. "Okay, I'll... I'll try."

Captain America nods, and pushes the phone toward her. She stares at it, and then looks back up at him. He doesn't seem inclined to leave the room. She takes the phone off the hook as slowly as possible, raising it to her ear and chewing on her lip as she looks down at the buttons. "Um, is there a phone book I could use?"

"You don't know your father's number?"

"Not at work. I had it written down on a piece of paper, but it was in my wallet and that got stolen."

"Uh, okay," Captain America says. He scratches his head and looks around. "Hold on, there's got to be one around here somewhere." He turns in a circle and starts opening cabinets. Thankfully, a phone book is not forthcoming. After a minute of looking Captain America signals that he'll be right back and leaves the room to keep searching.

Jean looks over at Scott as soon as the elevator doors have closed behind him. "What'd we do? I can't call my parents for real. It'll take hours for them to drive up to the city, and they'll get suspicious if they hear we're on our own. What'll we tell them?"

Scott's jaw clenches, his face tightening into his default stoical expression  "Maybe we should tell Captain America what happened. The Avengers could help us."

"No way!" Jean says. The phone starts beeping and a disembodied voice tells her to hang up and dial again. She sets the receiver back down on the base. "Do you want to go back to the orphanage? Or send Ororo back to foster care? We can't risk that."

"They might not!" Scott says, sounding unconvinced. "We don't know. They're superheroes, right? They help people."

"But they're not babysitters! They'd have to call social services. And what happens if—what if we don't—" Jean looks away, blinking as her eyes go hot and prickly with tears. Stop it. Jean cries, Marvel Girl doesn't cry. "What if we don't find them? What then? There's no way they'll let us stay together. You'll both go back into the system and I'll go back to live with my parents. And that's it. No more school, no more X-Men."

Scott drops his head and sighs. "What else can we do? There's no one else we can call."

Jean licks her lips. She's suddenly aware of the piece of paper in her shoe, the edges of it feeling sharp against her foot. "Actually. There might be. Before we left the mansion, I took something from the Professor's study."

"What?" Scott asks, looking back up in confusion. He didn't notice the date planner in Professor X's desk, and he wasn't in the room when Jean opened it up and found the list of telephone numbers on the front page. She toes off her left loafer and empties the coins inside on the kitchen counter. The piece of paper at the bottom falls out, landing on top of the pile of change. Jean picks it up and unfolds it.

She lifts receiver of the phone and skims down to the bottom of the list, to the number marked ***ONLY IN EXTREME EMERGENCY. She starts dialing before she has time to second-guess herself.

Their standard operating procedure is to pretend to be family when they’re in need of serious help—the closer the relation, the more immediate the danger. She doesn't know if the Brotherhood has a similar code, but she figures whoever picks up will at least know to play along with her. They should realize that it's the X-Men calling since she's using the number the Professor refers to as the "red line." He only uses it when there's a threat they can't handle alone or something serious he needs to warn his sister about.

It rings four times and then there's a pause and the sound of distant clicking. For a moment, Jean is afraid that it's only an answering machine, but then an all-too familiar gruff voice says, "Hello?"

Jean was hoping she'd get Mystique, but she recovers quickly, shifting gears. "Dad, it’s me—Jeannie!" Captain America might be gone, but she still has to make this convincing. For all she knows the Avengers record all of their out-going calls. Scott gives her a confused look and starts to open his mouth but Jean waves at him to be quiet.

"What? Who is—Jean?" Thankfully, Magneto seems to pick up on the deception immediately, his voice becoming more certain as he realizes who she is. "What in the—what’s going on?"

"I’m, uh, I’m sorry to bug you at work, Dad," she says, taking a breath and steeling her voice, making her request into something more like a command. "But I need you to come pick me up."

"What?" he asks again, his voice rising sharply. "Where are you? Why aren't you at school?"

She cringes a little at his harsh tone. She's only met Magneto once, when he came to the mansion to argue with the Professor after the Brotherhood and the X-Men clashed. Jean didn't exactly talk to him then, but she feels strangely like she's speaking to a teacher now. A distant one who is very hard to please. "Uh, remember how we were going on that trip to the Met today? We kind of, um... please don’t be mad."

She hears him take a deep breath. "I’m not mad, just tell me where you are."

"We're at—it's—Stark Tower. With the Avengers."

Magneto's voice drops down into a harsh whisper. "The _what_?"

"We’re not, we didn’t. It’s not like…" Jean swallows. "It’s a long story. We went to Central Park and someone stole my wallet and we needed money so we tried juggling and Scott lost his glasses and we met Captain America and—I’m sorry!"

"I—okay." There’s a pause in which Jean imagines a whole series of enraged and frustrated faces that Magneto is likely making into the receiver. "I’m not mad," he repeats, completely failing to convince her of that fact. "I'm only—who’s with you?"

"Scott and Ororo."

"Are you by yourselves? Where's Char—your teachers? Why isn’t anyone with you?"

"Um, we didn't—he’s not—there's no one we can—" Her voice jumps up an octave and she feels tears prickling at the back of her eyes again. So much for the grownup adult Marvel Girl who's cool in the face of a crisis. 

"Never mind," Magneto says. "It’s not important. Can you leave? Are those—are they holding you there?"

"Uh, yes?" she says, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "Captain America said we can't go until he talks to one of our parents."

He mutters something she doesn't quite catch, maybe a curse word in another language. "Okay, Captain America is there? Who else have you seen?"

"Uh, just him and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who picked us up in the park, Steve. But he had to leave. Oh, and a bunch of guards in the parking garage."

"Okay, fine. I'll do my best to talk you out of this, but I'm not sure—"

Jean doesn't hear the rest of his sentence because the elevator door opens then. They all jump as Captain America returns, his boots stomping loudly across the kitchen tile.

"Uh, hold on a second, Dad," Jean says. "Captain America came back." Magneto says something in response, but she presses the receiver against her shoulder in case it's incriminating.

Captain America has a pile of heavy phonebooks in his arms and he sets them down with a loud thump on the counter next to the phone. "I wasn't sure which county you needed, so I brought all the ones I could find."

"Oh, thanks," Jean says. "But guess what. I realized I do have the phone number! I put it in my shoe." She indicates the wrinkled paper still in her hand. "And I got my dad on the phone." 

"Oh," Captain America says. "Great." He holds out his hand for the receiver.

"Okay, Dad," Jean says loudly as she hands it over to him. "Here he is now."

"Hello, is this Jean's father?" Captain America asks. Jean can hear Magneto saying something in response, something that sounds belligerent, but she can't quite make out the words. "I understand that, sir, but I can't—"

Magneto tries to say something in response, but Captain America interrupts him. "Hold on a moment, I'm switching lines." He presses a button on the base of the phone and sets down the receiver. He taps the side of his head then, apparently transferring the call to his headset. "Hello? Mister—yes, that's better."

Captain America glances back over at the three of them, all of whom are listening intently to his side of the conversation. He turns away and walks to the other side of the room, still talking into his headset. "That may well be, but they're still children in an unfamiliar city…" He waves a hand as he goes and a glass wall drops down from the ceiling, separating him from the kitchen and blocking the sound as he continues arguing with Magneto.  

"Who did you call?" Scott asks, whispering as Captain America turns his back to them.

"Um, remember that—the special number the Professor had? For the—the other guys? You know, just in case? I called that and, um... he might come and get us."

"Who?" Scott asks, leaning forward, and she's sure if she could see his eyes he'd be squinting in confusion.

"You know," she says, glancing back at Captain America and dropping her voice even lower. "The Master of Magnetism."

"What?" Scott says. "Jeannie, Magneto can’t pick us up from the danged Avengers!"

"Sssh!" She looks back, but Captain America doesn’t seem to have heard them. He’s starting to get more and more animated, waving his arms angrily. Magneto must be really sticking it to him. "He’s not going to come in costume, dummy. Nobody knows what he looks like anymore than they do the X-Men. We’ll just pretend he’s my dad and they’ll never be any the wiser."

"I dunno," Scott says, chewing on his lower lip. "Professor Xavier wouldn’t like it."

"Well, the Professor isn’t here, is he?"

"We should have just told him the truth," Scott says, giving her a miserable look.

"I thought you didn't want to go back to the orphanage?"

"I don't, I just—It's the Avengers! Maybe they'd let us stay here..."

"We'd have to blow the school's cover _and_ tell them the Professor's real identity. Maintain cover identities at all times, that's rule number one!"

"But that doesn't mean—"

"This is the only way, Scott," Jean says, making her voice more certain than she feels. "Either we tell the Avengers everything now or we wait for the Brotherhood to come get us. We know for sure _one_ of them can keep a secret, and it's not the Avengers."

Ororo clears her throat, interrupting them. "But what if Magneto's behind it, huh?"

Jean glares at her. "Well, then one way or another we'll find out what happened to the Professor and everyone else! It'll save time."

Captain America seems to be wrapping up the conversation now. He raises the glass partition, repeating, "fine" and "all right," several times as he comes back into the kitchen. "Yes. Thank you again, sir," he says with a touch of sarcasm. He punches a button on the phone, transferring the call again, and holds the receiver out to Jean.

"Hello?" Jean asks, pressing it against her ear. "Dad?"

Magneto sighs. "He wants someone to come pick you up. He refuses to put you on the train alone. This might be—well, one way or another, I'm going to come get you. Or someone will. Within the hour."

"Okay," Jean says, glancing back at Captain America, who is watching her side of the conversation with interest. "I'm sorry you have to come get us."

"It's fine. But, Jean? I need you to stick together. Especially the younger girl—"

"Ororo."

"—especially her. Don’t let them separate you, not even for a minute. I will be there as soon as I can."

"Okay. Thanks, Dad." Magneto hangs up without saying goodbye. Jean sets the receiver down. She really hopes she hasn't made a mistake.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As is probably already apparent, my approach to doing a crossover with the MCU is basically to say timeline, _shmimeline._ Just assume the various Marvel movies happened as usual but in the 1960s and 70s to mesh with XMFC/DOFP. 
> 
> Thanks to Unforgott3n for beta reading and to the entire dofp_marathon community for general cheerleading and suggestions!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's "parents" arrive and the kids experience the excitement of international espionage.

After Jean hangs up the phone, she looks back at Captain America. "Sorry about my dad," she says. "He can be a little…" She waves her hand to indicate overbearing and/or megalomaniacal.

Captain America sighs. "It's okay, I'm sure he was just worried about you. Well, how'd you guys like to see the helicopter landing pad on the roof?"

"Oh, wow!" Ororo says. "Is there a helicarrier?"

"Uh, those are a bit too big to land on top of the tower. But there might be a regular helicopter?"

"Cool!"

There are in fact several different helicopters on top of the roof and the view is pretty cool, although Jean feels too dizzy to walk to the edge and look down like Scott and Ororo do. Steve shows them an experimental Stark flying machine that's parked into the corner and even lets them climb in the cockpit. It's shaped like a futuristic Corvette with stubby wings that look almost silly. Steve says it's based on Asgardian technology, but Jean doubts it can even fly.

Ororo is pretending to drive with Scott as copilot when Steve taps the side of his head and says, "Copy that. I'll bring them down."

"Who are you talking to?" Jean asks.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.," Steve says. "Your mother is here."

"My mother?" Jean repeats, before remembering that she should probably be helping their cover story instead of poking holes in it. "Oh, maybe Dad asked her to come so he didn't have to leave work."

Steve nods like this makes sense and helps Ororo climb down from the open cockpit.

Jean prepares herself in the elevator, reminding herself that it could be anyone down there so she shouldn’t act surprised. She's so ready for anyone that it's a bit startling when the doors open on the floor below and reveal her actual mother wearing a pale green dress Jean has never seen before.

"Mom?" Jean says. "Mom! What are you doing here?"

In answer, her mother smiles and holds her arms out to her. "Jean, dear!"

Jean runs up to hug her with relief, but when her mother envelops Jean in her arms she doesn't smell right. She's not wearing any perfume, and normally she always wears perfume, especially when they visit Manhattan. The hug feels strange too. She's holding Jean loosely instead of her usual tight clasp.

 _"_ Mystique _?_ " Jean whispers, mouthing the word as she looks up from the strange woman's arms.

The woman winks in response and smiles with a sly expression that looks strange on her mother's normally reserved face. "Yep, it's me. In the flesh. Your father called."

"Oh!" Jean says. "Great, well, now that you're here, I guess we can go!"

Captain America clears his throat and steps out behind Ororo and Scott. "If you don't mind I'd like a word first, ma'am."

Mystique laughs and keeps one arm across Jean's shoulders as she turns to face him. "Captain America, I assume? I'm so sorry if they've been a bother."

"Not at all," Captain America says, shaking Mystique's hand. "They're very smart kids."

"Too smart, one could say." Mystique eyes the three of them. "Hello there, Scott and Ororo. Good to see you both. I assume I can take them all home now?" she asks, directing the question to Captain America.

"Yes, but I was hoping we could talk first—"

Mystique laughs again. "So much attention for three small children. I hope Jean didn't distract you from more important things."

Captain America smiles and shakes his head. "No, really it was a slow day. That's why I was hanging around Central Park in the first place when I ran into them."

"Are they in any trouble? My husband said they were begging for money."

"We weren't _begging_ ," Jean says. "We were performing!" Mystique digs her fingers into her shoulder.

"No, no. No trouble. Nothing like that," Captain America says. "I just wanted to be sure they got home safely."

"Do the Avengers normally concern themselves with the activities of wayward children?"

Captain America shrugs. "Well, no, not normally. But these three are… particularly gifted children."

Mystique smiles, baring her teeth. "Yes, our Jean is so very smart. We're very proud of her." Her hand tightens on Jean's shoulder, growing painful.

"I hate to keep you, but I was hoping to get your information before you left."

"Oh? Whatever for?"

"Just—in case we ever need to follow up. Hold on one moment, I have a pen and paper somewhere—" Captain America turns around and heads toward the kitchen, going around the corner and out of sight.

"Get ready to run," Mystique whispers. "If he doesn't let us leave we're going to have to fight our way out of here."

Scott looks doubtful. "You mean fight our way past Captain America and half of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Jean bites her lip. She doesn't want them to have to _hurt_ anybody.

"If that's what we have to do," Mystique answers. She turns to Jean and gives her a significant look. "Your _father_ is outside waiting. If we're not out of here in fifteen minutes he's coming in after me. One way or another. Be ready. Can any of you fly?"

"What?" Scott asks.

"I can!" Ororo says, raising her hand.

"No, you can't," Jean snaps. "Not out of a fifty-story building, anyway!"

"Then we might have to do it the hard way," Mystique says, frowning. "If things get hot, try not to get crushed by any girders."

Captain America comes back then with a clipboard and a form he passes to Mystique. "Oh my, so many questions," she mutters, glancing over her shoulder at the clock. Jean watches her hurriedly fill it out, scribbling "1407 Main Street" and "Hometown, NY" in the address field. It seems like a pretty obvious fake to Jean, but maybe that's the point.

Captain America wants to talk more after Mystique finishes and hands over the clipboard, while she continues insinuating that it's really _very important_ that they leave right away.

"Really," she says. "We're supposed to meet my husband and I wouldn't want to leave him waiting."

Captain America nods, distracted as he taps the side of his head. "Oh? Send him up then," he says, talking into his headset. Mystique looks confused and then the doors open, revealing a tall man in a dark brown suit.

"Oh—honey!" Mystique says. "You certainly got here fast!"

Jean looks at Mystique in confusion before realizing the man stepping out of the elevator must be Magneto. He has brown hair that's greying at his temples and a sharp angular face, his eyes intense over prominent cheekbones.

"Dad!" Jean says, figuring she should play her part.

One side of Magneto's mouth twitches upward and he pats Jean on the shoulder. "Yes, hello. Traffic wasn't as bad as I feared."

"Hi, Mr. Grey!" Ororo says, waving to him excitedly. Scott is the only one who seems to be struggling with his role. He looks vaguely ill as he takes Ororo's hand. 

"Sir," Captain America says, holding out his hand. Magneto looks back at him, studying him for a moment before shaking his hand. "I'm Captain America."

"I'd guessed as much," Magneto responds. He gestures to Jean, Ororo, and Scott. "Well, if everyone is here we should be going."

"Yes, I was just talking to your wife," Captain America says. "Clearing up a few questions I had."

"Surely we can take care of that later, on the phone," Magneto answers. "It's been a long day and we have an even longer drive ahead of us."

Captain America looks ready to argue, but Magneto gives Jean a push toward the elevator door. She takes a step forward and then Ororo darts in front of her to push the call button. The doors open almost immediately and they pile inside, Mystique dragging Scott along by the arm.

"It was nice to meet you, Captain America," Ororo says. "Say goodbye to Steve for us!" She winks at him and Jean could swear Captain America looks embarrassed before the doors close. 

They ride down in silence. Jean feels tense and nervous, aware that they haven’t escaped yet. Magneto keeps his hand on her shoulder as the elevator doors open and they make their way through the bright glass lobby of Avengers' Tower. Mystique holding on to Scott and Ororo, keeping one hand on their arms as she pushes them ahead of her toward the exit. There's a reception desk staffed by several guards who nod as they walk past. Jean feels a moment of panic, but then they're slipping through the revolving doors and out onto the sidewalk. Once they're outside the group of them continues stiffly down the block, probably looking more like an escaping group of criminals than a family.

"Jean Grey?" Magneto asks. He still has his hand on her shoulder, but his eyes are searching the street, watching the other pedestrians around them. The sidewalk is crowded full of men and women on their way home from work.

"Right," Jean says. "That's me. Marvel Girl."

"Telekinesis?" he asks.

She nods. "And telepathy. A little."

His hand tightens at that and his eyes dart down to look at her. "Useful," he says. He turns to Scott next. "And you, you're Summers' brother?"

Scott nods. "Yeah, I've got energy beams too. From my eyes," he adds, sounding a little mournful about it.

"I remember. What's she do?" he asks, nodding down at Ororo.

"I can control weather!" Ororo says, excited as always to explain her powers. "Wanna see?"

"Maybe later."

Ororo frowns and drops her shoulders, dragging her feet in disappointment. Mystique tugs on her arm in response pulling her along behind her. "Keep up," she says.

"Where are you taking us?" Jean asks.

"That depends," Magneto says. "They'll be tracking us now. We can't just leave you at Grand Central Station. You'll lead them straight back to the mansion."

Scott glances up, swallowing. "Are you sure? Would the Avengers do that?"

"Of course they would," Mystique says. She gives Magneto a meaningful look, adding, "They know the kids are powered."

He shakes his head. "What were you thinking?" he asks, giving Jean's shoulder a shake. "What was _he_ thinking, letting the three of you run around New York City on your own?"

Jean turns to Scott, but he looks equally at a loss for explanation. "It wasn't our fault," she says. "I was carrying our money and my wallet got stolen and we didn't have a way home. We didn't mean to attract attention. It was an accident. Ororo only meant to clear away the clouds but she made lightning by mistake and then when the crowd started running away someone knocked Scott's glasses off, and—"

"Fine, it's fine," Magneto says, looking around the crowded sidewalk again. "We shouldn't talk about it now. We're being followed."

Jean starts. She knows she shouldn't look around for their tail, but she can't help glancing over her shoulder. There are dozens of people out on the sidewalk, most of them completely innocent looking. An ice cream man waves to her as they hurry past his cart and she turns her head away.

"Here's what we're going to do," Magneto says. "We split up. Raven, you meet up with Azazel and go back together. Finish the mission. I'll take these three and lie low until it's safe to get them home."

"But," Mystique says. "We can't—not without you!"

Magneto shakes his head. "I'm not vital to the mission. You are. The both of you. The kids will slow me down, but you can make it away clean now without them tracking you."

She nods her head slowly, still looking like she wants to argue. She takes Ororo's hand and places it in Scott's, then looks back up at Magneto. "Take care of yourself."

"I always do," Magneto answers.

Mystique stops while the four of them keep walking. The rush hour crowd quickly surges up around her and she disappears from view. Jean looks back over her shoulder, searching the crowd for Mystique's face or her green dress, but she's vanished like she was never there.

"Keep walking," Magneto says.

"Where are we going?" Jean asks. She feels panicked, frightened by the unseen S.H.I.E.L.D. agent tracking them and Mystique's sudden disappearance.

"The subway," he answers. "We'll go through Time Square and keep changing trains until we're sure we've lost them. It's only a block away. Everyone hold on tightly and don't lose one another."

He's walking quickly now, striding as he pushes Jean forward, his other arm pulling on Scott, who is in turn pulling Ororo behind him. Jean is struggling to keep up, half jogging to keep pace with his long strides. "Wait," she says. "Slow down. Magneto, I can't—"

He pulls her close, slowing down finally and grabbing her tightly under the armpit. "Shush! No code names in plainclothes." His eyes dart around, eyeing the strangers passing them on the sidewalk suspiciously.

"Sorry, I—what should we call you then?"

"Erik is fine."

"Okay. Erik." The name feels weird in her mouth. She's only ever heard the Professor call him Erik. The rest of the X-Men always use Magneto, which seems to be what he prefers now anyway.

They're at the mouth of the subway now and Magneto herds them over to the counter to buy tokens. It's busy, like it always is in Time Square. Jean has to grab Ororo's hand and pull her in close so she's not blocking the path of the distracted commuters rushing in and out of the turnstiles. She feels safer with the crowd all around them. It'll be much harder to track them down here. Magneto buys extra tokens and hands each of them two. "Save the second one in case you need it later."

They make it through the gates and take an express train downtown. Magneto has them ride to the World Trade Center and then get off to switch to trains, going uptown this time. They keep it up, transferring every few stops, always to a new line and a new direction. Ororo is excited but not overwhelmed, her grip tight on Jean's hand as they cross the platform at yet another station. She knows how to ride the subway. She took it countless times with her parents in Harlem before they died.

Scott, on the other hand, is acting like a gobsmacked tourist, stumbling on the stairs and standing in all the wrong places so people get mad at him and yell. At one point he gets confused and stops dead in the middle of a narrow pedestrian tunnel choked solid with people rushing to switch lines. Magneto grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him bodily down the stairs to the train platform.

After around the fifth or sixth time they've transferred it starts feeling less like an exciting spy movie and more like a really boring trip with her parents. "Are we ever going to get off?" Ororo asks, starting to get whiny as Magneto has them switch lines yet again.

"Only when I'm sure we're safe. A few more switches and we should be fine. The dangerous part is going back above ground again."

"Where are we even going?" Scott asks.

Magneto shakes his head, tapping his finger to his mouth. Jean sighs. It's well after rush hour now and the car is almost completely empty. There's a man and a woman two seats down, but it's doubtful they can hear them over the sound of the train. "Are you really that worried? I don't think Captain America took us very seriously. We're just kids! I bet they didn't even follow us."

She's sitting down on the bench while Magneto is standing so he's already towering over her. He turns fully toward her now, reaching up to grab the rail above the bench as he leans in closer. "You're so sure of that? A man with sixty-five cents and two titanium arrowheads in his pockets followed us from Time Square all the way to Lexington Avenue. We only lost him twenty minutes ago."

Jean suspects he's lying to scare her, but he looks so intense that she's afraid to challenge him. She looks down at the floor instead, focusing on the tattered remains of a newspaper at her feet. 

"Let's hope it was only a cursory tail and that they haven't decided to investigate the three of you further."

"We're probably okay," Jean says, still looking down at the newspaper. "We didn’t give them our last names or anything."

Magneto blows out a harsh breath of air, cruel and dismissive. "Oh, no, just all of your faces. I’m sure they have cameras over every inch of that place. I hope you didn’t tell them you were mutants."

"We’re not _stupid_ ," Scott says, stepping closer to Magneto and grabbing onto the pole next to him.

"Don’t try to convince me of your intelligence right now, Scott."

Scott bites his lip and drops his head in response, quickly folding under Magneto's scorn.

"You’re overreacting," Jean says. She looks up to find his face is much closer than she expected, but she keeps from flinching. "It’s not a big deal. They all have secret identities. They’re superheroes too, remember?"

"No." Magneto raises his free hand, holding it just in front of her face like he's thinking about strangling her. "No, they are _not_. They’re not vigilantes, Jean. They're _police_. The Avengers are a government-sponsored team. Do you know what S.H.I.E.L.D. is? It’s a federal security agency, as in an intelligence agency, as in _spies_. How long do you think it will take for them to match your faces and your fingerprints to your records in a government database somewhere? I give it a week until they’re watching all of your families."

Jean swallows, her stomaching dropping. "That's not—you don't know that."

"Yes, I do. I've dealt with them before, and this is not good. You may have compromised the school and the Professor's whole operation, putting all of you in danger of arrest. Or worse." He grabs her upper arm, pulling her forward so she's forced to sit on the edge of the seat. His voice is low now, so soft that Scott is probably having a hard time hearing him. "You're not superheroes, Jean. You're mutants. Do you understand what that means? You can’t get lost in some fantasy of being heroes and forget the reason Xavier recruited you in the first place. The world hates us; you don’t do this for the world. You do this to protect each other and to defend the helpless."

He's so close Jean can feel his breath on her face and see the stubble prickling along his jaw. "Is that what you do now?" she asks. "Help the helpless?"

Magneto pauses, looking her over. He steps back and loosens his grip on her arm. "I give power to the helpless. And I help the strong realize who they really are."

"Um, Mr. Erik?" Ororo asks, interrupting the tense moment by raising her hand in the air. Thankfully, it makes Magneto turns to look at her and let go of Jean's arm.

"Don't call me mister." Magneto says, his jaw clenching.

"Okay, Erik!" Ororo says, brightening as she apparently takes this as a friendly overture. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Magneto sighs deeply. "How badly?"

"Bad," Ororo says, crossing her legs and pressing them together.

"Fine. We've transferred enough now. We'll get off at the next stop. We're not far from our final destination now and there's a public bathroom on the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Unf and Professor for betaing!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A detour is taken and things get trippy.

They get off the subway at a station Jean's never heard of and climb the stairs to an unfamiliar part of town. She's not entirely certain if they're even in Manhattan anymore. 

Magneto seems to know where they're going and leads the way. Ororo is skipping and twisting her legs like she really needs the bathroom, which is making Jean nervous. They didn't pack a change of clothes. Luckily, it's only two blocks till they get to a small park with a playground and a public restroom. Ororo races inside without waiting for Jean to follow. She decides to wait outside. She doesn't have to pee and she also doesn't want to use some gross public toilet.

Magneto waits as well, pacing back and forth like he's frustrated by the pause in their trip. He walks in circles several times before stopping and turning to Jean abruptly. "Did you get a read on him?"

"Huh?" Jean asks. She still feels wary of him after their last intense conversation on the train.

"Captain America. Did you get a read on him?"

"Like…?" She taps her forehead, glancing around to see if anyone is watching. They're in a shaded area, blocked from view by a small thicket of trees, but she can hear children shouting and laughing nearby on the playground.

"Yes," Magneto says, nodding impatiently.

Jean frowns. "Well, no, that would be rude."

"Rude?" he asks.

"The Professor says we shouldn’t read other people's thoughts without permission."

Magneto puts one hand to his forehead. "That’s—yes, he’s right," he says, looking deeply annoyed, like Professor Xavier is arguing with him long-distance. "Respecting others and using your powers responsibly is important. But, Jean—your life is more important than another person’s privacy."

She looks down, scuffing her shoe across the dirty sidewalk. "They were trying to help."

"How do you know that? You don’t. You can’t." He turns, glancing toward the playground before dropping his voice as he leans closer. "Jean, our lives are dangerous, you know that. Humans are dangerous. You can’t know if you can trust them—really know unless you read their minds. So when you’re in that position again, when you’re putting your life—and Scott and Ororo’s lives—in the hands of strangers, _you read them_. You have to be certain, okay?"

"Okay," she says, nodding even though she's not sure if he's right.

Scott comes out of the bathroom then, wiping his damp hands on the back of his pants. "Where's Ororo?" he asks.

"Still in the bathroom," Jean answers.

"Huh?" Scott says. "No, she finished already. She shouted through the door that she was going to get ice cream."

"What?"

Magneto shakes his head. "No, we'd have seen her come out."

Scott starts to answer him, but Jean turns and runs into the women's restroom without listening. She looks under the stall doors, quickly coming up empty. There's a second door on the other side of the restroom that opens to the back of the building. She runs back to Magneto and Scott. "She's not inside. She must have gone out the back way!"

"What? So _find her_ ," Magneto says. Scott nods and turns on his heel, running in the direction of the playground. Jean starts to follow, but Magneto grabs her arm before she can take more than a step.

"Not like that," he says. He taps his temple impatiently with two fingers. "Use your _head_."

"Oh," Jean says. She drops her hands to her side. She's not really sure what to do. Normally when she practices the Professor is always there. She's not sure how to start without him there to nudge her in the right direction. She closes her eyes and tries to concentrate, imagining her power unfolding from her and stretching out like the closed petals of a flower. She can hear a distant buzz, the sound of dozens of nearby minds, their thoughts indistinct and vague. Magneto is still holding onto her upper arm and his grip tightens like he's afraid that if he lets her go he might lose another mutant child.

Jean keeps reaching out, imagining the tendrils of her mind growing, stretching toward the indistinct shapes around her. She brushes the nearest silhouette and the vague shadow turns into a riot of colors, the sight of the playground blurred around her as a burst of childish delight fills her chest.

Not Ororo. It's a boy—Sam—who's running in circles around the jungle gym while shouting, "Mom! Mom! Are you looking?"

Jean lets go and reaches for the next shape, fumbling with the edges of their mind until she sinks inside. Her chest aches and she feels tears streaming down her face. "No, it's mine! My truck!"

Jean pushes away quicker this time, her senses swimming as she reaches for the next mind and then the next. Children, dozens of children, and none of them familiar. She's starting to lose her bearings, the edges of the playground blurring as she whiplashes from mind to mind. Where is she? Surely Jean should have found her by now?

The buzz at the back of her head is getting louder, and it’s not a murmur any more but voices, hundreds and hundreds of voices. When she tries to push them away, to compress them back down, they only get louder.

There’s too much. She can’t make out the words, there are too many of them. But the emotions—they wash over her one after another faster and faster like the alternating chills and sweats of a fever. One moment her hands are clenching in anger and the next her stomach is sinking with dread and then tightening again with anxiety. Her heart is racing and she's not sure if it's with her own fear or someone else's.

There’s a hand on her shoulder, pulling her through the cacophony of voices, her feet dragging as she tries to match his fast strides.

"Please, move, my daughter’s going to be sick—"

Jean feels the back of her legs hit a wooden bench as someone pushes her to sit down. She feels warmth on her face and is blinded when she opens her eyes, blinking in the bright light.

Someone is saying, "—me, Jean. Concentrate on me."

On who? Is he the one with the sore feet standing behind the ice cream cart?— _stupid kids and their sticky coins_ —or the one on the swings watching as the earth rises and then falls away in a rush and he hovers for just a moment free of gravity— _woo!—_ or the one climbing the monkey bars, the metal biting into his palms as he swings himself forward— _look at me, look at me, you’re not looking!_

Her head snaps as someone shakes her shoulders. "Jean, look at me!"

She's looking up into a man’s face. He has grey hair at his temples and gray-green eyes. His eyebrows are drawn together, forming a deep worry line between them. _Magneto_ she thinks, wondering if she should be alarmed. What happened to his helmet? 

A child shrieks in the background and she shifts the heavy diaper bag on her shoulder, the sweat dripping down her back and pooling between her breasts. _No, you’ll spoil your supper. Shouting about it won’t change my—_

The hands on her shoulders tighten, fingers digging in until she can feel the pad of each one burning painfully as he squeezes. She sees Magneto's face again—no, Erik. He came to pick them up, that's right. She blinks and then she’s looking at her own face, her eyes glazed like she can’t focus right. God, does she really have that many stupid freckles?

 _Wish Charles was here. Where can I take her? There’s nowhere to go, nowhere that isn’t full of people, even in the middle of the park. Look at me, look at me—is that you Jean? Focus on me. Pretend I’m the only one here. We’re alone. It’s only me_.

 _My head hurts,_ she thinks.   _At least I think it’s my head._

_I know. It’s okay. Pretend I’m the only one, just focus on my mind._

The hands on her shoulders let go and then they’re around her face, cupping her head and shielding her eyes like blinders so all she can see is Erik's face in front of her and all she can hear is him thinking. His thoughts are clear despite the thread of anxiety underneath, and his mind is so open, like the Professor’s when they’re having a lesson and he’s coaxing her to test her powers, the welcoming expanse of his consciousness so easy to step inside.

_Good, that’s it, just me, stay with me._

The noise of the crowd quiets, fading as Erik blocks it, compressing the outside word into a tiny ball and tucking it away where it won’t bother them. Jean can still see outside, but it's like the crowd is behind a pane of glass now. It reminds her of a hive of bees she saw once at a science museum. She could see the bees inside, squirming and moving behind the glass, and could even hear them if she pressed her ear against the side of the hive. Now, too, if she listens closely she can pick out individual words and phrases, but she doesn’t have to listen. She can ignore it if she wants, letting the roar of voices dim into a soft buzzing.

 _Better?_ Erik asks.

_Yes. What happened? We were on the subway but now we’re outside and…?_

_We got off the subway. Ororo had to go to the bathroom, remember? We're in a park now._

_But—what happened?—where’s Scott and Ororo?_ She starts to reach for them, forgetting for a moment, and the buzzing gets louder. A crack forms in the glass.

 _No!_ Erik says, pulling her away from the outside world and turning her around to face the opposite wall. _Stay with me. They’re fine. Scott found her. I gave him the key and sent them ahead of us to the safe house._

There's a door in front of her now. It’s a dirty, stained thing, with the ghost of numbers stenciled in the wood above the knocker. The numerals must have fallen off long ago, but she can still read them—32C.

_Yes, that's the place. We’ll follow them there in a moment. After you’ve caught your breath._

The knob turns and the door opens, and Jean feels a hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her inside.

The interior doesn't match the outside. She was expecting an apartment, probably a small dirty one, but instead she finds herself in a hallway paneled in dark wood. It's very dim, and there are paintings hanging on the walls—portraits, but she can't make out the faces, their features hidden in shadows.

Jean tries one of the doors, but it's locked. She starts down the hallway, testing doorknobs as she goes. Many of the doors are dark, but some have light shining from underneath. She stops when she sees a shadow move under one of them, like a person is standing on the other side. She touches the handle, but doesn't try to turn it. It's very quiet in the hall, and the metal is cold under her hand. "If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, Infinite."

Erik laughs, a strange echoing chuckle in the empty hallway. She can feel his presence again, watching her as she stands on the threshold. _Where did you hear that?_

_It's something the Professor says sometimes. When we're practicing._

He laughs again, and the door opens under her hand, swinging wide. She steps outside onto a narrow city street, the sun bright overhead. There are close buildings all around, old townhouses that remind her of Brooklyn, but the architecture is different, older, and there are cobblestones under her feet. There's a man on the corner with an old-fashioned ice chest and he hands her an ice cream cone with a smile. She takes a bite and the taste of strawberries fills her mouth, sweet in the summer heat. Behind the man is a shop with the door propped open. The shadowy interior looks cool and inviting. Jean steps inside and a bell rings somewhere above her to alert the owner.

She finds herself in a bright sitting room, blinking in disorientation at the unexpected scene. Mystique is there, blue now, wearing her natural skin, and she's laughing. She's laughing so hard that she falls backwards on the couch, rolling on her back with her sides heaving like she's just heard the funniest joke in the world and now she can't stop. Whenever her giggles start to subside she seems to remember the punch line again, bursting out with loud laughter like it's even better the second time.

There's a door behind her too, to the left of the couch. Jean walks toward it, passing Mystique as she snorts and starts wiping her eyes.

There's a little crooked plaque high on the doorframe, brightly colored with tiny pictures Jean can't quite make out. She stands up on her toes to see it better and touches the edge. It feels like ceramic, or maybe enamel, the edges smooth under her fingers. The door opens as she leans closer and the click of the latch makes her jump like she was doing something wrong.

Jean glances back at Mystique, but she doesn't seem to be paying attention to her, still trying to stifle her laughter. This door feels different for some reasons, but still, would it be open if she weren't allowed to look? Erik can always kick her out of his head if he doesn't like where she's going.

Jean puts her hand on the doorknob and shoulders it open. She steps into a kitchen, warm with the smell of rising bread. A woman is standing at the stove and she turns slightly to look at Jean over her shoulder. She looks tired, dark circles marking her eyes, but her whole face lights up when she smiles. She greets Jean like she is expected and very welcome. Jean steps inside and lets the woman kiss her on the cheek, still trying to get her bearings. The door closes behind her.

The woman's hands are white with flour, and she wipes them on a dish towel tucked into her belt before passing Jean a wide ceramic bowl. The bowl is covered with a damp towel, heavy in Jean's hands. The woman says something that might be "neaten see brot egg," the words garbled like she's speaking nonsense.

"What?" Jean asks, but the woman doesn't seem to hear her, turning back to the pot on the stove. Jean lifts the white cloth cover and finds fresh dough underneath. It smells yeasty and rich. "Um, I don't know what to do?" she says.

The woman says something that doesn't sound like English again, and makes a motion in the air, twisting her palms to mimic kneading dough.

"Oh, okay." Jean sits down at the tiny table under the window and starts to work the dough, turning it over in the bowl with her hands and squishing it back down with the base of her palms. It's slightly warm under her fingers and wonderfully squishy. The woman continues cooking, taking jars down from a spice rack over the oven and tipping various ingredients into the broth she's stirring. Occasionally she smiles at Jean again and says something she doesn't understand, but Jean doesn't feel any pressure to respond. It's nice—comfortable—both of them enjoying the warmth of the oven as they work on their separate tasks. It reminds Jean of when she reads while her mother works on needlepoint at home. Or when the Professor lets her work on her homework in his office while he writes.  

The woman opens a hatch on the side of the oven, revealing the glowing coals inside. She picks up a poker from a rack on the floor and pokes at the coals, frowning. She doesn't seem to like what she finds. She turns to Jean and points, saying, "Gib mirror das holts."

"Huh?" Jean asks.

The woman says it again, motioning behind her, and Jean turns to discover a woodpile in the corner. She gets up from the table and picks up two split logs from the top.

As she passes the wood to the woman, Jean notices for the first time that there's a door against the back wall of the kitchen. It's different from the others she's seen so far in Erik's head. It's long and made of steel where the others were wood, and industrial looking and foreboding where the others were homey and welcoming.

Jean puts her hand on the side of the brushed metal and finds that it's like ice, so cold that her fingers stick as she pulls her hand away. A wooden log cracks behind her and Jean jumps as an echoing noise comes from behind the metal door. A muted metallic thump rings out like someone kicked at the other side. Like someone is trying to get in.

Jean realizes she can feel a draft. The door is open the tiniest sliver, slid over in its metal tracks, and a cold wind is blowing from the other side. Jean takes a step forward, her heart beating strongly in her chest. She's afraid to look inside, but she can't seem to stop herself from moving closer toward the crack. She hovers with one eye just to the side so she can almost see around the thick metal edges. The wind is moaning as it blows through, wavering with a soft, painful tone.

Or is that a human voice?

"Someone's crying," Jean says, trying to get the woman's attention. She can't hear her moving around behind her anymore, but Jean is afraid to look away from the door, afraid that it might open when she's not looking. "Mom, do you hear that?"

 _No!_ Erik's mental voice rings out suddenly and the metal door jerks to life, letting out a loud squeal as it slides in its tracks, slamming shut. _Not there, Jean._

Jean startles backward, bumping into the edge of the wood stove behind her. She almost puts her hand on the hot stovetop before she catches herself.

There's a clicking sound to her left and Jean jumps again. There's a new door in the kitchen's white walls now, a single slab of dark mahogany wood. Jean darts forward as it swings open, escaping inside with two short running steps.

When she emerges on the other side she runs flat into an overstuffed red armchair, tipping over the side and landing sideways in its luxurious softness. She pulls herself up on the arm and realizes that she knows where she is. It's the Professor's sitting room, but not quite. A strange picture is hanging over the mantle and all of the furniture is in the wrong place, including the armchair she fell into. The remains of a fire is glowing in the hearth and she hears a soft tap beside her, the sound of a chess piece being moved on the board.

Jean turns and realizes there's a man sitting across from her. His expression is serious as he leans over the chessboard, resting his elbows on the table between them. His wavy brown hair falls into his eyes as he studies the pieces.

"How are you going to get out of this one?" someone asks. It takes Jean a moment to recognize the voice as Erik’s, the sound deepened and distorted by the memory and from being heard with his own ears.

"I’m sure I’ll think of something, my friend," the man replies, not looking up as he considers his next move. The dim light of the fire flickers over the side of his face and Jean realizes that she knows him, just as she knows this room.

" _Professor?_ " Jean asks. Her voice sounds strange. It's her voice, and yet not her voice, both in her head and yet spoken out loud. The Professor doesn't seem to notice, still focused on the layout of the board in front of him. He's lost most of his pieces already and has been reduced to his king, his queen, and three pawns.

"You are good in tight places," Erik tells him. Professor Xavier chuckles and glances up at him, sharing the joke.

"Don't try to distract me. That's cheating."

Erik scoffs. "Have we given up cheating now? We'll never finish the game at this rate."

"Everything in its proper time," the Professor says. He lifts one pawn and sets it down with determination before leaning back in his chair.

Jean hears Erik draw in a slow breath, considering his own move. He reaches out and lifts up his rook, taking the Professor's queen with a casual pass of his hand. "Checkmate in two."

"Blast!" The Professor shifts forward to study the pieces, frowning like he refuses to believe he's been bested. "No, I'm sure I can get out of this—"

 _Jean?_ Erik's voice asks. It's his real voice this time, not the memory of it. _It's time to go now._

The study door opens with a click, and Jean can hear the sound of children playing again. The light from behind the door is bright and warm, the outside world calling her back. She takes a deep breath and stands up.

Jean crosses the room, but pauses to look back at the Professor over her shoulder. He's still busy examining the chessboard and doesn't look up. It's just Erik's memory anyway, not the real thing. Not her Professor. She turns to go, stepping through the door and into the late afternoon sun.   

Erik is holding her shoulders when her eyes blink back into focus. "Okay now?" he asks.

Jean nods and turns away from him to look around. She feels disoriented from her long trip through Erik's head and slightly dizzy to be back in the real world. She also doesn't know what to say, feeling weird after seeing so many of his private memories. After a moment she settles on asking, "The Professor used to have hair?"

Erik coughs and then laughs. "Yes? Until very recently, in fact. He was a person once, before he became a headmaster."

"Oh," Jean says. She probably should have realized that.  

"Come on now," Erik says, holding out his hand to help her up. "The apartment isn't far. We'd better go find Scott and Ororo before they get themselves in trouble."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids learn what a safe house is and also why you always leave a note.

Jean follows Erik down the street, still feeling disoriented from her telepathic loss of control. The world looks strange to her. It's dim and out-of-focus, not nearly as bright as the memories she wandered through earlier. She can feel the buzz of other minds itching at the back of her head, but she resists the urge to reach back and scratch it.

The Professor told her once that learning telepathy was a little like learning to read. It's a difficult skill that requires hours of practice, but once you know how, it becomes hard to turn it off again. Sometimes you can't help reading billboards and posters as you walk down the street, whether you want to or not. Jean is trying very hard _not_ to right now, but she keeps getting short snatches of thought, little disjointed phrases that are just meaningful enough to divide her attention. It's very distracting. She shakes her head and moves faster to catch up with Erik's fast strides.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"It's not far, just two blocks away," Erik says, glancing back at her over his shoulder. "Scott and Ororo should be there by now. Assuming they found it."

"Scott's very reliable," Jean says. It's something the Professor always says about him. "Where was Ororo, anyway?" she asks, suddenly remembering how Ororo went missing in the first place.

Erik rolls his eyes. "Apparently there was some man selling balloons and she followed him up the block to buy one. Scott found her standing on the corner of the street."

"Oh." That does sound like something Ororo would do. Jean really needs to have a conversation with her about asking permission before she wanders off alone.

Erik stops at a store on their way to buy groceries. It's a tiny place crammed with cloudy jars of pickled vegetables and strange meats hanging from the ceiling. Jean's mother would have turned up her nose at it, but Erik doesn't seem bothered.

While they're waiting in line Jean stares at the back of his head and thinks about what he said earlier. _Your life is more important than another person’s privacy._ Did that apply to him too? She still doesn't know if they can really trust him. She feels less cautious after taking an extended tour through his mind, but that could have been misleading. He only showed her older memories after all, nothing more recent. It's entirely possible they've gone from the frying pan into the fire.

It's not hard to find Erik's mind again and separate his thoughts out from the crowd of voices around them. Jean reaches out lightly, barely brushing against his thoughts in case she loses control again. He's distracted, his attention straying as his mind goes in circles, running down a list—

_23:05 silence guard station, 23:10 secure target, 23:15 rendezvous, 23:20 extraction, 23:35 return to base, 23:45 resume contact. 23:05 silence guard station, 23:10 secure target, 23:15 rendezvous…_

Jean can't make much sense of it, and she pulls back after a moment, afraid of being detected. Rendezvous? Was he thinking about the Brotherhood? He told Mystique to return to the "mission" earlier. Maybe this was part of their plan? But what were they doing?

The clerk waves them forward to the cash register, interrupting Jean's thoughts. After they get checked out, she helps Erik carry the groceries one block up to a sad-looking apartment building. The brick is chipped and faded and Jean can see several broken windows upstairs. Erik holds the door open for her and together they climb two flights to the third floor.

Erik finds the door to 32C—the same door Jean saw in his head before—and opens it without needing any keys. Scott and Ororo are inside sitting on a faded couch and they both jump up in excitement as Jean and Erik enter the room.

"What took so long?" Scott says.

"Did you bring dinner?" Ororo asks. "I'm starving!"

"Yes, yes," Erik says. "We stopped to buy things for sandwiches."

Jean glances around the apartment as the others crowd into the kitchen. The living room reminds Jean of her grandmother's house. The couch has a floral pattern and the whole place smells vaguely musty.  She goes down a hallway and opens a door to find a pink-tiled bathroom with a stained bathtub. Another door reveals a bedroom crammed with furniture: a dresser, an armoire, and a big king-sized bed. Lastly, she finds a second bedroom with two bunk beds that look weirdly out-of-place. They look like beds at a sleepaway camp or an army barracks. Jean suspects that whoever decorated the rest of the apartment didn't pick out these beds.

She goes into the kitchen and finds Erik emptying the grocery bags while Scott and Ororo help. Jean continues her investigation, opening the refrigerator door to find that there's no food inside except for the milk Erik brought with them. The cabinets, on the other hand, are stocked full of canned vegetables and beans. Jean takes out a jar of peaches and blows the dust off.

"What is this place?" she asks. "Who lives here?"

"No one lives here," Erik says, getting a square griddle pan out from under the sink. "It's a safe house. A place where people can go if they need to lay low and hide."

"Like from the police?" Ororo asks.

"From whoever."

"Oh," Ororo says. "What are you making?"

Erik shrugs. "How does grilled cheese sound?"

"Great! I love grilled cheese!"

"Good, then you can get the bread out for me."

Erik tells Scott and Jean to set the table while Ororo helps him cook. They find a set of mismatched dishes in the top cabinets, no two plates alike. They don't look very clean, so Jean decides to wash them first and makes Scott help her dry.

It's strangely comforting to be making dinner, almost like they're visiting a friend instead of on the run from the Avengers. Ororo seems to be having fun and makes up a song that goes, "Griiii-lled toast! Griiii-lled toast! Lots of cheese and grilled toast!" Even Scott starts to look relaxed, lining up the plates and glasses on the table as he finishes drying them. The enclosed walls of the apartment also seem to be helping Jean block telepathically. The steady background noise of other minds has finally quieted, leaving her head feeling considerably lighter.

Erik can’t find a spatula, so he uses his fingers to flip the sandwiches, watching them closely until they’ve reached a nice golden brown. He floats the pan over to the counter when the grilled cheese is done and flips it, neatly transferring them to a plate. Ororo stands up on her toes as he’s slicing the sandwiches in half and leans over the counter to watch.

She frowns, wrinkling up her nose. "I don’t like rectangles."

"What?" he asks.

"Ororo, it's fine," Jean says, realizing where this is going.

Ororo ignores her. "I don’t eat square foods," she tells Erik, tilting her head back to look up at him.

"You—what? It doesn’t matter what  _shape_  they are. They’ll all taste the same," he says, decisively slicing the last sandwich in half.

Ororo pushes back from the counter and crosses her arms. "I’m not hungry."

"You said you were hungry  _five minutes_ ago," Erik answers, raising the knife and pointing toward the dining room. "Now sit down and eat."

"No," she says, sounding like she’s getting ready to throw a fit.

Erik laughs in a way that's not very humorous. "Uh,  _yes._ You’re going to sit down and eat, young lady, and you’re going to do it right now or else I'll—!"

"It’s okay!" Jean says, shouldering between them. She takes the knife out of Erik’s hand and pulls the plate of sandwiches toward her. She slices them again, quartering them diagonally. "See, now they’re triangles!"

Ororo smiles and picks up a plate. She holds it out and Jean slides several sandwiches onto it. "Thank you!"

Jean waits until Ororo goes into the other room to eat before saying anything. "When she gets in a mood it's usually easier to play along with her."

Erik passes a plate to Jean with more force than necessary. "Childish nonsense. She'll never grow up if you coddle her like that."

"Uh, she's six," Scott points out, picking up a grilled cheese. "Who cares if she only eats triangles?"

Erik looks like he's about to argue that _he_ cares, so Jean grabs the last of the sandwiches and follows Ororo out into the dining room. She takes the can of peaches with her and dishes several out onto both of their plates. Professor X would probably want them to eat a vegetable too, but the cans of green beans and spinach looked gross to Jean. She doubts Ororo would eat them anyway.

Erik and Scott join them shortly, still arguing about how old someone has to be before they're forced to eat square foods.

There's a TV in the other room angled so they can see it from the dining room table. Jean gets up and switches it on to the nightly news. This has the desired effect as both Erik and Scott stop arguing to watch.

Jean zones out during a long report about the New York City mayoral election, not paying attention as the candidates come on to arguing about the city's terrible finances. She's finished her sandwich and is starting on more peaches when Scott sits up and says, "Uh oh."

"Huh?" Jean says.

Scott points toward the TV, indicating the anchors, who are now chatting in a friendly fashion about "the unusual weather this afternoon." Erik lifts one hand and the volume on the television turns up.

"—now for more on this surprising midday lightning storm," the main anchor says. A meteorologist appears on the screen and starts to talk about the incredibly rare conditions necessary for a lightning strike to happen without a thunderstorm. "There were even reports that some of the bolts were reddish in color," he says, sounding excited. "This may indicate that the lightning was caused by an unusual accumulation of dust particles in the air that caused a strong electric charge to build up and also created the illusion of a reddish colored light."

Jean glances over a Scott and sees that he's staring down at his plate looking miserable. She signs. "It's not your fault, Scott."

"Yes, it is," he says.

"If anything it's _Ororo's_ fault for causing the lightning strike in the first place," Jean says, turning to glare at her.

"I told you it was an accident!" Ororo says.

"You shouldn't have even tried in the first place! None of this would have happened if—"

"Shhh," Erik hisses, waving a hand at them. "I'm trying to listen." The anchors have moved on to the crime report now and are talking about a series of muggings somewhere in Queens.

Ororo pushes back from the table and stomps away to one of the bedrooms. Jean picks up their plates, clearing the table for lack of anything better to do. She dumps them in the sink and then decides that someone else can wash them since she already cleaned them once herself.

Scott and Erik have moved to the living room by the time she gets back. She joins them, sitting in the most comfortable-looking and least beat-up armchair.

Ororo gets bored being by herself by the time the news is over and returns to the living room. "Can we watch _Wonderful World of Disney_?" she asks.

"No," Erik says. "Not until _60 Minutes_ is over."

Ororo sighs and flops dramatically over the side of the couch. "Fii _iiii_ ne."

The three of them are soon bored senseless as a detailed report about Nicaragua airs, featuring long segments about politicians Jean has never heard of before. Erik, on the other hand, is watching closely, sitting forward on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees. He keeps tapping the coffee table with his fingers like he's nervous or impatient about something.

"Are you waiting for something?" Jean asks.

Erik glances at her and sighs. "No—I'm not sure. I'm just wondering why there hasn't been anything about three missing kids yet."

"Oh," Scott says. "Do you think they'd be looking for us already?"

"It depends," he says. "They might still be trying to contact Jean's parents. Maybe the Avengers haven't figured out yet that someone else picked you up today."

Jean nods. "I bet they won't find Mom and Dad until tonight. And then they won't be able to announce we're missing until tomorrow morning."

"If they do at all," Erik says. "It's also possible they identified me and decided not to put out a missing persons report at all. Don't want to risk civilians or human cops trying to interfere and getting killed."

"We're not going to kill anyone!" Scott says, sitting up and looking horrified.

"Yeah," Ororo says. "The X-Men don't kill people! It's a rule."

Erik looks away, rolling his eyes up toward the ceiling. "Yes, I am aware. I wasn't saying I was going to kill anyone, I was saying _they're_ worried I might."

"Right," Jean says. "But also we aren't going to kill anyone."

"Definitely not," Scott agrees.

"Right?" Ororo says, looking at Erik.

He sighs in response. "Okay, I will do my best not to kill any of the idiots who try to get in my way. Happy?"

"As long as you _try,_ " Ororo says. "Can we watch the _Six Million Dollar Man_ now?"

"Fine." Erik waves his hand and the television changes to ABC.

They watch half an episode about a nuclear submarine being hijacked by pirates before Ororo falls asleep and starts drooling on the arm of the couch. Erik makes Scott help him pick her up and tuck her into one of the bunk beds in the second bedroom.

"You two should go to bed too," he says when they come back to the living room where Jean is waiting. "I want us to get to Westchester early tomorrow. I'm sure Charles is worried enough as it is with you three going missing for an entire night."    

Scott opens his mouth with a startled expression and then turns to look at Jean. He looks miserable, just like Jean feels. She almost forgot what brought them here in the first place.

Erik gives the two of them a confused look, glancing back and forth between them. "What's wrong?"

"Um," Jean says. She looks back and Scott and he nods. There's really no point in hiding it from Erik any longer. Clearly they need his help. They'll have to tell him anyway tomorrow when they arrive at the mansion and find it empty. "The thing is… we're not really the ones who are missing. The X-Men are. They all disappeared last week."

"Wait— _what?_ " Erik says. "Charles is missing?" He leans down so he's kneeling in front of her, his hands clasping the armrests of her chair.

"Yes," Jean says, deciding she made the right decision. He wouldn't be so surprised now if the Brotherhood had taken the Professor in the first place. "Professor X disappeared first. We think he was kidnapped. So, the older kids went searching for him, but they haven't come back yet."

"When was this?"

"Like a week ago?" Jean says, glancing at Scott for confirmation. "They found some clues that led them to Europe and went looking there. They were in contact with us at first, but we haven't been able to raise them on the radio in a while."

"You three have been alone for _over a week?_ " Erik asks, his voice dropping down into the dangerous register that Jean is starting to realize means he's both angry and worried at the same time. "Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"Um, well... the others thought maybe, um, maybe it was you guys."

Erik sighs and sits back on his heels. "Jean, if I had kidnapped the Professor I would have left a note."

"Oh." He did do that one time. Jean remembers it now. They searched all day despite the part of the message that said "you'll never find us" and "he will be returned unharmed." The Professor was back the next morning looking surprisingly cheerful despite his ruffled appearance and several suspicious bruises on his arms and neck.

"Well, we didn't know that," Scott points out.

"No, I guess not," Erik says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Okay, start at the beginning, what happened?"

"We all went out on a mission one day and when we got back the Professor was gone."

"There weren't any clues?"

"Not really," Scott says. "My brother thought it might be this group we've been hearing about lately—Factor Three. But they couldn't find out anything about them."

"Factor Three?" Erik repeats. "I've never heard of them."

"They're supposed to be mutants," Jean explains. "But that's all we know. That's why we thought it might be a front group for the Brotherhood."

Erik shakes his head. "I wouldn't use a front like that. If the Brotherhood is doing something, I want our name on it."

"Oh," Jean says. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's their fault. I can't believe those idiots left the three of you alone by yourselves."

"Well, they didn't know they wouldn't come back!" Scott points out.

"They should have prepared for it!" Erik says, his voice rising. " _Charles_ should have prepared for it."

Jean puts her finger to her mouth. "Ororo," she says, whispering to remind him to be quiet.

Erik glances back toward the bedroom. "Right, sorry."

"Anyway, it's not like we're little kids," Jeans says.

Erik laughs softly and shakes his head. "Oh, no. Heaven forbid. All right, who was in this rescue crew? Banshee, the Beast, and Havok?"

Jean nods. "Yeah. All three of them."

"And where were they exactly when they vanished?"

"Europe," she says.

Erik raises one eyebrow. "Can you be more specific? Europe is a big place. Do you know what country?"

Jean glances over at Scott, but he just shrugs in response. "No, they were kind of keeping us in the dark."

"Probably because they didn't want you to worry about the fact that they had no idea what they were doing. All right. New plan. I'm taking you to the Brotherhood's main base and we'll figure out what to do from there."

"Could we go back to the mansion first?" Scott asks. "We tried searching through the Professor's research files, but we didn't find much and we couldn’t get into his safe. But maybe you can."

"Yes," Erik says, nodding. "You're right. Okay, we'll stop in Westchester first. Then join up with the Brotherhood."

"We need to get a change of clothes and toothbrushes and stuff anyway," Jean says, feeling oddly jealous that Scott had the idea before her.

"Should Ororo come with us?" Scott asks.

Erik nods, looking distracted. "She's safer with us than anywhere else. And I don't want any of you left alone until I figure out what we're up against. Whoever this is could be targeting the X-Men as a whole. Maybe they kidnapped Charles first to lure in the rest of you."

"Oh," Jean says. "So you think the others fell for a trap?"

"Maybe." He sighs. "It seems strange that this Factor Three didn't attack the mansion outright, but maybe they weren't interested in babysitting the three of you."

"Hey!" Scott says.

"It wasn't an insult," Erik says. "Okay. Both of you go to bed. This just means we need to get up even earlier to have time to search the mansion for clues."

Jean goes into the pink-tiled bathroom and finds a sliver of soap to wash her face with. She also finds an old tube of toothpaste and spreads a little on her finger to brush. When she gets back to the bedroom, Scott has already taken the top bunk and from the sound of his breathing he's fast asleep. Jean is not so lucky. She knows she should get to sleep—better to be well rested and ready for anything tomorrow—but she's too anxious now. She can't help imagining all of the awful things that could be happening to the Professor and the X-Men.

Jean's not sure how long she's awake tossing and turning. She can hear cars outside on the road and the occasional siren that goes screaming past. She's half dozing when she hears a jangling sound from the front of the apartment. The security chain? She wakes up completely when it's followed by a solid but muffled thud, like someone shutting the door very carefully.

Jean sits up in bed. She waits a moment, but she doesn't hear anything else aside from Scott and Ororo breathing. She gets up, moving quietly so as not to wake either of them.

The front room is silent and dark, lit by nothing but the green glow of a pharmacy sign across the street. Erik's shoes are missing from their spot next to the door. She checks the kitchen, but it's empty as well, the only movement the ticking of the second hand on the clock. She looks into the master bedroom next and feels a moment of panic when she sees the empty bed where Erik is supposed to be sleeping. The blankets are rumpled, like he lay down for a bit and then got back up again.

Why would he leave in the middle of the night? Why not wait for morning? Unless he didn't want them to know. Or he isn't planning to come back.

There's no note anywhere, not that she can see, but she finds his suit jacket folded over a chair next to the bed. That makes her feel calmer. He probably wouldn't leave his jacket behind if he were leaving for good. The envelope she finds in the nightstand also makes her feel better. It's sealed, but it looks and feels suspiciously like a thick stack of dollar bills. If anything _does_ happen to him, at least they'll be able to buy train tickets home tomorrow with the money.

She goes into the kitchen to wait and watch out the front window. She counts cars as they pass on the street below, their headlights illuminating the kitchen in long sweeping passes. She's up to more than seventy by the time she hears the sound of footsteps in the outside hallway.

Jean tenses when she hears the click of the lock, and then the sound of someone shuffling in the front hall. The security chain rattles and then Erik comes around the corner into the kitchen.

Erik stops when he sees her silhouetted against the window. The silverware drawer clangs open and a knife files across the room into his hand. He holds it up threateningly and the overhead light turns on with a loud click despite the fact that Erik is a good three feet away from the switch.

"Shi— _oot_ , Jean," he says, throwing the knife down on the table when he recognizes her. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. Why aren't you in bed?"

"Why aren't _you?_ " she asks, annoyed that he's interrogating her when he's the one that snuck off like a teenager breaking curfew.

"I went out. What are you waiting up for? You should be asleep."

"I heard you leave," she says. "Where were you? You can't just _leave_. I had no idea where you went!"

He stares at her, his jaw tight with anger, and Jean remembers Ororo making him promise not to kill anyone earlier. His answer was not very sincere.

She meets his gaze for a long moment, too scared to do anything but stare back. She's on the verge of breaking and looking away, but Erik beats her to it, shaking his head as he lets out a huff of laughter. He goes to the window and peers out through the blinds.

"Did I wake you when I left? I was trying to be quiet. I needed a smoke." He pulls a white cigarette package out of his pocket to show her and tosses it down on the table.

"It took you a half-hour to buy cigarettes?" Jean asks, incredulous. "Why didn't you go to the drug store across the street? It's open late, isn't it?"

Erik taps one finger on the table, his jaw working. "I _did_. I bought them downstairs and then took a walk and had a smoke. For some reason I really needed one." He stresses _some reason_ so she knows he means the three of them. He opens the window and then turns away to the cabinets over the sink, searching them until he finds an ashtray.

"You haven't even opened the package," Jean says, pointing to the unbroken seal.

Erik laughs again, shaking his head like he can't get over being interrogated by a teenage girl. Good, maybe it will keep him from disappearing again without saying anything.

He sits down across from her, setting the ashtray on the table. "Maybe I bought two packs and chain-smoked the other one before I got back," he says, spreading his hands in a broad gesture like he's giving up.

He doesn't smell like smoke, but that's beside the point. "What were you really doing?" she asks.

Erik sighs, picking the pack up and tapping it a few times before opening it. Jean waits as he pulls a matchbook from his pocket and lights a cigarette. He takes his time with the first drag, holding it in his mouth for a long moment before exhaling out his nose. "I had to make a phone call."

"To who?"

"No one you need to worry about."

"Mystique," she says, about 80% sure.

He takes another drag and lets out a long breath, leaning over to blow the smoke out the open window. He nods once, a curt acknowledgement. "Yes."

"Was she okay? Where are they?"

He taps the ash off the end of his cigarette, watching her for a long beat before responding.  "I'm not sure. I tried calling three times and no one answered."

"Do you think it went bad? Their mission?" she asks. She feels a little tremor of the same panic she felt earlier when she saw the empty bed. If the rest of the Brotherhood got into trouble, then it's just the four of them against... whatever it is they're up against.

Erik takes a few more drags off his cigarette. It's almost done now, burning down to the edges of the filter. "No, I don't think they were captured. Just, there might have been.... complications. Something that tied them up longer than they expected. We'll find out tomorrow. Azazel's supposed to meet us here early in the morning once he's no longer needed."

"Unless he doesn't come at all."

"Exactly," Erik says, and stubs out the end of his cigarette in the ashtray.

Jean nods and gets up, pausing with one hand on the doorway. He's right. She should go to bed. But she still feels unsettled. "Do you think that—we'll find them? The X-Men?"

"Of course we'll find them," he says, looking down as he digs in the pack for another cigarette.

"I mean... alive."

Erik looks up at that. "Of course they're alive."

"You don't know that," she says, feeling defensive. She's not a child. He doesn't have to lie to her.

Erik sighs and puts a new cigarette in his mouth. "Have a little more faith in your fellow mutants. We're hard to kill."

"Okay," she says, although she doesn't really feel any better.

"Go to bed, Jean. Do you need to be tucked in or something?"

"I'm _twelve_ ," she says, turning up her nose as she leaves.

Jean goes to bed and this time she falls asleep. It's a fitful, half-awake sleep that isn't very restful. She has strange dreams that feel too much like waking. Later, she's not sure if parts of them were real or not. She could swear once that she woke up and saw Erik standing at the door, checking on them, but the next time she rolls over the doorway is empty.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and the kids continue their search for the X-Men with the Avengers close on their heels.

Ororo wakes up when the sky is just beginning to lighten before dawn. Jean and Scott are both sound asleep so she stays in bed and waits. At the mansion, the rule is she's not allowed to leave her room until other people wake up. Usually, the Professor is the first one who comes downstairs and she joins him for breakfast.

She's on the verge of falling back asleep when she hears a thumping noise from the front of the apartment. Ororo climbs out of bed, figuring that if Magneto is up, then she's allowed to be up too.

When she comes into the front room she finds Magneto taking off his shoes next to the door. He's carrying a small paper bag and a newspaper under his arm.

"Good morning!" Ororo says, starting out loud and then remembering to whisper so she doesn't wake Scott and Jean.

Magneto startles like he didn’t hear her walk in and looks up. "Morning. You're up early."

"So are you. Did you go out?"

"Orange juice," Magneto says, patting the paper bag under his arm.

Magneto goes into the kitchen and pours them both a glass of juice. He also searches the cupboards until he finds a box of Cheerios. "Hungry?"

"Yes!" Ororo says, sitting down at the table. They both have a bowl and Magneto reads the front page of the paper while Ororo reads the funnies. Ororo has already made it to the last page and is puzzling over Doonesberry when Magneto stands up and leaves the kitchen. Not having anything better to do, Ororo follows him.

Magneto goes into his room and gets out a small bag from the large dresser in the corner. He sorts through it, tossing various items out onto the bed before selecting a can of shaving cream and a razor and turning to the bathroom. He leaves the door open as he splashes water on his face and starts to lather up.

"My dad used to use Barbasol shaving cream!" Ororo says, following him inside and sitting on the lid of the toilet seat. "I like the smell."

"Me too," Magneto says. He squirts a little on his hand and holds the foam out to her. She sniffs it and he takes a swipe at her nose with one finger, surprising her. She tries to duck, but isn't fast enough, and he gets shaving cream all across her cheek. She giggles and wipes her face with the collar of her shirt.

Magneto smirks and goes back to shaving, peering at his face in the mirror. Ororo realizes that he isn't holding onto the end of the razor. It's just floating in front of his face as he guides it with one hand. She watches fascinated as he removes stripes of white shaving cream from his cheeks and neck, the razor steady and smooth as it glides up and down. "Do you live with your dad?" he asks.

"No," Ororo says. "My mom and dad died when I was little so I went to stay with my grandma up the street. But then Grandma died when I was five so I went to live at the orphanage and the mean lady there wouldn't let me eat more than two animal crackers at a time. But then the Professor came to get me and now I live at the mansion and I get to eat all the animal crackers I want as long as it's after dinner!"

"I see," Magneto says. "I'm sorry about your parents and your grandmother."

"It's okay, I'm sad sometimes, but I like living at the mansion. Do you think we'll find the Professor and the other X-Men soon?"

Magneto pauses. The razor taps itself on the edge of the sink as he looks at her. "Yes, I'm going to help you find them."

"Good," Ororo says, nodding up at him. "Scott said we can't trust you, but Jean said you're our best option, and I'm glad you came to get us because I didn't like the Avengers. Captain America is nice and all, but Thor wasn't even there!"

"Why do you like Thor so much?" Magneto asks, some of yesterday's gruffness returning to his voice. "He's an alien."

"Because aliens are _awesome?_ " Ororo says. She can't believe someone wouldn't like aliens or Thor. Maybe this is what the Professor meant about Magneto being "very opinionated."

"It's just that... he's an alien," Magneto says, pulling down a towel to wipe his face. "He doesn't know what it's like to be human, never mind a mutant."

"Nuh-uh!" Ororo says. "Thor's a god! He understands _everything_. And he likes mutants and children and dogs and everything awesome because he's awesome."

"He's not really a god. Ancient humans only thought he was because they didn't understand aliens."

"I know!" Ororo says, affronted that he would think she's that dumb. "But he's still a _king_ and Asgardians are basically like gods and he has a really cool cape and I don't know. I just like him."

"His cape is nice," Magneto admits. Ororo smiles back at him. He _can_ admit when he's wrong, no matter what the Professor says. Ororo is starting to suspect that the Professor is somewhat biased when it comes to Mr. Lehnsherr.

"I need to take a shower now," Magneto says. "Why don't you go see if Jean and Scott are awake? But don't wake them up if they're still sleeping."

"Can I watch cartoons in your room if they are?"

"Yes, but turn the volume down low."

Scott is still passed out with his mouth open, and Jean only rolls over in annoyance when Ororo tries to see if she's awake.

Bugs Bunny is on when she goes back into Magneto's room and turns on the TV. Ororo's seen all the Looney Tunes cartoons before, but they're still funny so she doesn't mind. They show the one about the bulldog trying to protect a tiny kitten, which is her favorite. Scooby-Doo is on by the time Magneto comes out of the shower, but Jean and Scott _still_ aren't awake. Teenagers sure sleep a lot.

She says as much to Magneto and he shrugs and says it's "their prerogative." Whatever that means.

Magneto digs around in the dresser drawers searching for new clothes. It seems to take him a while, and he starts grumbling under his breath before finding a shirt and pants and going back into the bathroom to change.

Scooby-Doo is nearly over by the time he comes out dressed in a blue-striped shirt and rust red bellbottoms. Velma is just revealing that the ghost was the mean owner of the neighboring hotel the whole time. He was only pretending to be a ghost to scare customers away from his competitor. It's a twist that Ororo anticipated since the ghost is _always_ the meanest adult in each episode.

She explains this to Magneto, in case he hasn't noticed the pattern yet, and he nods. "You're right, that's very smart. Remember that, Ororo. Most adults are liars, but you have to pay close attention to see through their lies."

Ororo nods. "I know."

____

When Jean wakes up, at first she's sure she's back at the mansion. She blinks in confusion at the plain white wall next to her bed, wondering what happened to her wallpaper. The memory of where they are—and everything that's happened in the past week—comes back with a jolt that makes her sit up. She nearly hits her head, forgetting that she's in a bunk bed.

Someone has drawn the shades on the window and the bright light hits her right in the face. Wait, why is it so bright? What time is it? Weren't they supposed to leave first thing? She scrambles out of bed to look for the others, but both Scott and Ororo's bunk beds are empty.

"Are you up, Jean?" Scott calls, sticking his head in from the hallway. "Gah! Sorry." He turns away quickly and shuts the door when he sees that Jean is only half-dressed. She took off her skirt the night before to keep it from getting wrinkled and the long tail of her blouse only just covers the tops of her thighs.

"Ugh, it's fine, Scott!" Jean shouts. She searches until she finds where she left her skirt folded on the ground. After pulling it on she goes out across the hall into the pink tiled bathroom. Scott is conspicuously absent, which is only to be expected. He'll probably act embarrassed and avoid her for hours.

Jean freshens up quickly, rinsing out her mouth to get rid of her morning breath. Her blouse is creased from sleeping in it all night long, but after she tucks it back in to her skirt it doesn't look too bad.

Out in the living room Ororo is sitting on the floor paging through the morning paper while Scott and Erik talk in the kitchen.

"Why'd you let me sleep so long?" Jean asks. "I thought we were going to leave first thing?"

Erik shakes his head. "We _were_ going to leave as soon as Azazel showed up. But he hasn't."

Jean glances over at Scott, but he looks equally confused. "What does that mean?" she asks.

Erik shrugs. "I don't know. I tried calling again, but there was no answer. It's possible they're still tied up with their mission, but…" He sighs, trailing off.

"You don't think so?" Jean asks.

"No. I think they might have been compromised. Or captured."

"Which means we're on our own," Scott says, looking grim.

Erik nods and Jean bites her lip. "What do we do now?"

"Same plan as before," Erik says. "We go to the mansion first and look for clues. Then we regroup at my main base and continue searching for the others. Both the X-Men _and_ the Brotherhood."

"Is it possible Factor Three got to your team too?" Scott asks.

Erik shakes his head. "I can't know for sure, but I've never even heard of this group before. There's no way to know if they're involved until we find out more about them."

"What were they even doing?" Jean asks. "The Brotherhood? You said Mystique needed to be there, right? Were they infiltrating something?"

"It's not important." Erik says.

Scott frowns. "I thought we were trusting each other now? We told you the truth about the X-Men."

Erik studies them both for a moment without answering. He pokes at a molar in the back of his mouth with his tongue like he has a tooth there that's bothering him. "We are. But I'm not telling you because it's safer for me—and for you—if you don't know. Someone might try to get it out of you if they think you know anything about the Brotherhood's operations."

"How are we supposed to find everyone if we don't know all the facts?" Jean says.

"Let me worry about the Brotherhood," Erik says. "You focus on the X-Men. Our main problem now is that we don't have transportation without Azazel. I need you three to stay here while I go find us another option."

Scott starts to argue that they should come with him, but Erik glares at him silently until he backs down. Jean doesn't bother arguing. Erik clearly doesn't think he owes anything to a couple of kids he's stuck dragging along. After he leaves, she decides to do a sweep of the apartment, checking for anything they forgot or anything useful they can take with them. There isn't much, but she does find a small first aid kit in the bathroom.

She's checking the cabinets in the kitchen for any food worth packing when the sound of honking comes from outside. Jean looks out the window and sees Erik below, sitting in the driver's seat of a big Cadillac convertible with the top down.

She grabs Scott and Ororo and they all rush downstairs, piling out on the sidewalk together. "Whoa," Scott says. "Nice car."

"Get in," Erik answers. He's gotten out and is leaning against the hood with his arms crossed impatiently.

"Shotgun!" Ororo says, scrambling to open the front passenger door and get inside.

"Where'd you—is this a 'safe' car?" Jean asks. "Like was it left for us?"

"Yes," Erik says. He nods toward the passenger door. "Now get in. Let's go."

"No, it's not," Scott says. He walks to the rear of the car, looking at the trunk. "You changed the numbers on the plates. I can still see the ghost of the old letters. It's stolen."

Jean lets go of the handle like it's on fire. "What? We can't steal a car!" Ororo looks at her in confusion and starts to climb back out, putting one foot down on the ground. Erik points at her with a warning look and she freezes in place, half in and half out of the car.

"How would you suggest we get to Westchester then?" Erik asks, glaring at both of them.

"The train!" Jean says. "Or we could _buy_ a car!"

Erik rolls his eyes. "One, we can't risk being seen now that the Avengers know what you look like," he says, ticking off his reasons on his fingers. "Two, I don't have access to that kind of money right now. And, three, does this really seem like a good time to be making a scene in the middle of the street? Get in the car."

"Where did you even find it?" Scott asks, his arms folded and his tone still unconvinced and accusatory.

Erik sighs. "It was parked on a side street and covered in dust. It probably hasn't been driven in months. I appropriated it. Get in."

"Appropriated—?" Scott repeats. "You can't just take someone's car off the street! That's theft!"

"So is private property. Now, _get in the car_ before you draw any more attention to us." Erik pounds his fist on the frame and the entire body of the car flexes. It lets out an ominous hollow rumbling.

Jean and Scott both get in the backseat behind Ororo. Erik gets in himself and slams the door. They sit in silence as he starts the car and pulls away from the curb without touching the wheel. The clutch shifts into third gear with an angry rattle.

Ororo waits until they've driven about three blocks before she starts fidgeting and turns on the radio. It's tuned to some oldies Big Band music and she quickly flips the dial, twisting it until she finds a Top 40 station that's playing ABBA. Erik clenches his teeth, but doesn't make her change it, and they spend the rest of the trip silently listening to disco music. 

Jean doesn't mean to fall asleep, but the soothing motion of the car has her eyelids drooping. She drifts into a hazy doze for most of the ride and only wakes when the radio turns off and the car abruptly comes to a stop.

"What? Are we there?" Jean asks, sitting up and shaking her head. Glancing out the window she sees that they're nearly home. They're parked just in front of the mansion's gates, stopped on the tiny one-lane road through the woods that serves as the Professor's driveway.

"Oh, I'll open it," Jean says, reaching for the door. She pulls on the handle but it won't open, stuck tight even when she puts her shoulder against it.

Erik shakes his head and waves a hand distractedly at her. He's staring out the windshield with a distant, concerned expression on his face, like he's listening very carefully to something happening far away. His eyes aren't quite focused on the wrought-iron gate and the imposing stone wall that runs around the outside perimeter of the Professor's estate. 

"What are we waiting for?" Scott asks, leaning forward in the seat next to Jean.

Erik shakes his head and continues to stare out the window. Ororo turns around in the front seat to look back at Scott and Jean with a confused expression. Jean shrugs at her and raises one finger to her lips for her to be quiet.

They sit in uncertain silence for another minute before Erik nods to himself and puts the car back in gear. "Okay, I think we're clear, but let's not spend more time than we have to here. In and out. We check for any clues you missed, the three of you grab some clothes, and we go."

"Can I open the gate now?" Jean asks.

Erik nods and when she tries the door this time it opens easily.

Jean jogs up to the disingenuously old-fashioned looking gate. There's a hidden panel in one of the stone post and she raises it and punches in the code. The gates swing open automatically so Erik can drive through. He stops on the inside, waiting for her to close the gate and get back in the car.

Erik slows down as he pulls into the circular driveway in front of the mansion, the tires crunching over gravel. He drives around to the side and parks next to the service entrance they normally use in lieu of the mansion's giant front doors. He sits in silence again for several seconds and the three of them wait, exchanging confused looks at yet another unexplained pause.

"Mr. Erik?" Ororo asks.

Erik coughs and looks down at her. "Don't call me mister. And what are you all waiting for? Let's go!"

They climb out and rush to the side door. Jean has to dig in her purse for the key. Thank god it wasn't stolen like her wallet. Once they're inside, Ororo pushes past her, running up the kitchen stairs toward her room.

"Don't forget your toothbrush," Jean yells after her. "And pack a sweater!"

Erik walks toward the front of the house, leading the way to the east wing of the mansion where the Professor lives. Normally they aren't allowed in these rooms without permission, and it feels strange walking through them with Magneto of all people. He seems to know where he's going though, finding the door to the Professor's private den and walking through it to his study at the back of the house. 

The room is as they left it, papers scattered across the Professor's desk and all the drawers opened. During their search, Scott managed to find the key to the file cabinets, but they couldn't get into the large locked safe built into the wall. They took down the portrait that normally keeps the safe hidden from view, and it's still propped up in the corner, one of the Professor's ancestors looking up at them disapprovingly from the floor. Erik flips through the papers on the desk, but quickly dismisses them, turning to the safe instead. He raises one hand like he's testing the metal and furrows his brow. 

Jean is expecting him to tear it loose from the wall or wrench open the door or something similarly dramatic, but instead Erik makes a tiny circle in the air with his index finger and the combination lock begins to turn. He twists it several times to the left and then to the right before it opens with a soft click. 

Scott gives Jean a startled look. She's pretty surprised herself. "How do you know the Professor's combination?" she asks.  

"Because he hasn't changed it in over fifteen years?" Erik says. He opens the safe door and begins removing the contents and laying them out on the desk. There are several heavy suede cases, the kind that usually hold jewelry. Erik shakes one and then puts it aside without opening it. Next come two large accordion folders stuffed full of paper. Erik hands one to Jean to look through. She finds it's filled with confusing financial reports and certificates that must be stocks and bonds. She and Scott go through several more folders with similar results. 

Jean is starting to despair, wondering if there's nothing but boring paperwork inside the safe, when Erik pauses with an open file folder in his hand. "What was the name of that group again? The one the X-Men were tracking?"

"Factor Three," Scott says. 

Erik lays open the folder for them and points to the cover page with the same name at the top. Inside is a report listing incidents and rumors about the group, all of them labeled "unconfirmed." The top of each page is stamped "Top Secret." Jean wonders where the Professor got it from. Supposedly he has a friend in the CIA who helps him from time to time. Maybe this report came from him. The very last page has a note written in red at the bottom in the Professor's rushed handwriting. Erik inhales sharply when he sees it and lifts the paper higher to stare at it. 

"What is it?" Scott asks. 

Erik holds out the page so they can read the note, which says "A.F. infiltration? Investigate." The Professor also circled the heading at the top, which reads "Ramstein-Miesenbach."

"Where's Ramstein-Miesenbach?" Jean asks, hazarding a guess at the pronunciation.

"Ram- _stine_ ," Erik says, correcting her. "It's in Germany. It's also the home of the largest NATO airbase in Europe."

"Do you think that's where the X-Men went?" Scott asks.

Erik nods. "Possibly. I don't suppose either of you know how to fly the Blackbird?"

Scott snorts. "We're not even old enough to drive!"

"The X-Men took it anyway," Jean adds. 

"I guess we'll have to find another way to get to Germany then," Erik says, closing the folder and tucking it under his arm. 

They go through the last few files in the safe, checking they haven't missed anything. There's more legal paperwork, the Professor's passport, and—helpfully—several bound stacks of twenty-dollar bills that Erik puts in his jacket pocket.

They're finishing up when Jean finds a sealed envelope at the back. It says "Will and Testament" on the front in the same familiar sloppy handwriting as the note about the airbase. Jean picks up the envelope and bites her lip, not sure if she should open it. After hesitating for a moment, she hands it to Erik. 

"Hm?" he asks, looking up when she taps his arm. "Oh." He breaks the seal and pulls out a single sheet of paper from inside. Jean and Scott both wait as he reads it. Jean holds her breath, wondering what it says. Did the Professor leave them a last message?

"Well," Erik says. "For future reference, according to this you're all beneficiaries in the event of his death or incapacitation. Next time he goes missing try calling his lawyer first instead of me." 

Jean doesn't know who the Professor's lawyer is, but she nods anyway. Her chest feels tight and she wonders if they'll have to find out soon.  

They leave a few minutes later, having looked through the last of the remaining papers without finding anything else.

"Both of you go pack a bag," Erik says, stopping in the den next to the Professor's chessboard. There's a game in-progress laid out like usual and he pauses for a long moment to study the pieces. "Be prepared for cold weather conditions, but don't take more than you can carry while running. Have you both been on missions before?"

"Yes," Jean says. "Lots of times." Okay, they spent those missions waiting in the Blackbird for the others, but in principle they _were_ allowed to go. And all those hours in the Danger Room practicing have to count for something.

"Then bring your uniforms as well. It's likely we'll see some action sooner rather than later." Scott nods and heads out into the hall. Jean follows him, glancing over her shoulder as she goes. Erik is studying the chessboard again, and as she watches he lifts up a pawn and slides it forward one space.

Jean packs quickly, stuffing two sweaters into an overnight bag and getting her green costume out of the closet. She has a more practical blue and yellow suit somewhere, but she likes this one better since she designed it herself. Plus, the dress part is inconspicuous enough to wear as street clothes. She changes into it and tucks her yellow belt, gloves, and mask into her bag. She feels much more prepared now with her costume on.  

Jean checks Ororo's bedroom when she's done, but it's empty. There are clothes scattered all across the floor and the bed. She hopes Ororo picked out something practical.

Jean finds Scott at the bottom of the front stairs. It looks like he had the same idea as she did and also changed into his uniform. She can see the top of it peaking out from underneath his button up shirt. He also has a green military rucksack thrown over his shoulder that looks like it belongs to his brother.

"Ready to go?" Erik asks, coming in from the kitchen.

"Almost. Have either of you seen Ororo?" Jean asks. Scott shrugs in response and Erik shakes her head.

"Great," Jean says. She clears her throat and cups her hand to her face, shouting up the stairs. "Ororo! Come on, it's time to go!"

There's the sound of running footsteps and Ororo appears at the top of the staircase like she was waiting for someone to call her. She lets out a dramatic yell and poses with her hands on her hips. She has her toy tiara on her head, the paste gemstone glittering amid her white hair. She's also changed into a pink leotard with black tights, and has a terrycloth robe tied around her neck, the white fabric flapping at her sides. "Fear not, citizens!" she says, tilting up her chin and staring down at them. "It is I!"

Erik stares up at her with a blank look before glancing sideways at Jean. She sighs in response and shrugs.

"Uh," Erik says, looking back up at Ororo, who is striking a series of regal poses at the top of the stairs. "And who might you be, miss?" he asks, his voice rising in the universal signal of adults humoring small children.

Ororo is delighted, of course, and raises one fist into the air, her face fierce as she replies, "I am Cloudrider, Mistress of the Lightning!"

Jean can't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Geez, Ororo, not now."

"Dare you defy the Queen of the Skies, Marvel Girl?" Ororo asks, pointing down the stairs at her and glaring, her tiara flashing on her head.

"We don't have time for this," Jean answers, since Erik doesn't seem interested in taking charge.

Ororo stomps her foot, her voice changing from the commanding tones of Cloudrider into a whine. "You guys got to put on _your_ costumes."

"We have training, you don't!" Jean points out.

"I can help too!"

"No, you can't."

"Yes I caaa _aaaaan_ ," Ororo says, stamping her feet in a burst of childish frustration. She starts coming down the stairs, somehow managing to make the whole staircase shake under her slight weight as she stomps down.

Erik stoops down to meet her and holds out his hands, and she finishes her descent by running the last few steps into his arms. He lifts her up and she whoops in delight as he spins her once around. Apparently he took Jean's earlier advice about playing along with her to heart. "Good heavens," he says, his voice matching her stylized play-speech. "She flies as fast as a lightning bolt!"

"The clouds are my chariot, and the lightning my horse!" Ororo announces, raising her arms in a dramatic flourish. "At my back follow my brothers the wind and the thunder, while before me are my sisters the rain and the hail—"

Jean rolls her eyes again, having heard Ororo's entrance speech at least a dozen times by now. It gets longer and more elaborate each time. Erik kneels down, setting Ororo on the steps as she finishes reciting her familial relationships to each of the elements.

"Cloudrider," he says, bowing his head. "I am afraid Marvel Girl is correct. Our mission is dangerous. So dangerous that I fear you may only accompany us in disguise. Will you agree to shed your shining raiment for now?"

Ororo sighs and tosses her hair with one hand. "I suppose the Queen of Amazonia might assist you in your quest."

He looks confused so Jean explains. "Cloudrider's secret identity is being the Queen of the Amazon jungle. If you can call being a queen a secret."

"The _secret_ is the fact that Cloudrider is also the Queen and not just her bodyguard like everyone assumes," Ororo says. "Duh."

"Whatever," Jean says.

Erik clears his throat. "Okay, Marvel Girl, will you help Cloudrider get changed back into her secret identity? We really need to be going now."

"Why do I always have to help her?" Jean asks. She really isn't in any mood to mess around with Ororo right now.

"Because you're Marvel _Girl?_ " Scott points out, sounding puzzled.

Jean kicks him in the shins.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Erik says, stepping between them as Scott raises his arm defensively. "None of that. Cyclops, will you please go help Cloudrider instead."

"Fine," Scott says, taking Ororo's hand and leading her back up the stairs.

While Ororo is getting changed, Jean helps Erik load their luggage into the trunk of the car. It doesn't take long. She and Scott have one small suitcase each and Erik only has a bag he stole from the front closet and loaded up with food.

Afterward, they lean against the hood of the car and wait. Erik taps his foot impatiently and keeps checking his watch. He pushes away from the car with a sigh of relief when Scott and Ororo finally reemerge from the mansion.

Ororo is still wearing the tiara and has on a bright floral jumper with mismatched pink tights and her favorite red shoes.

"She made me let her pick out her own clothes," Scott says, handing Ororo's backpack over to Erik.

"It's fine," Erik says, opening the car door. "As long as you—" He stops abruptly and turns his head, looking over his shoulder with a startled expression like he heard something.

"What?" Jean asks.

Erik shakes his head, his forehead creased with concern as he looks behind them.

"Is something wrong?" Scott asks.

Erik nods, but doesn't look back. "I think we're going to have to make a run for it. Company's on its way here."

"What? Who?" Jean asks, turning in a circle. The driveway is empty and she looks around in confusion until Erik points up. High above, in the clear blue sky to the east, she can see three tiny dots flying toward them. She thinks they're helicopters at first, still far away, but then the smallest one breaks away from the formation and she realizes that it's actually something much smaller than a helicopter. And something much, _much_ more maneuverable. The smallest dot swoops upward, painting a white contrail across the sky as a sonic boom echoes over their heads. Jean has a very bad feeling about this.

"Okay, we don't have a jet," Erik says. "I don't suppose Charles has any other secret airplanes hidden somewhere?"

"No," Jean says. The two larger dots in the sky are circling overhead now, seemingly looking for space to land. They're flat and square-looking, and not like any airplane Jean has ever seen before. "I mean, we have cars, but nothing that can fly."

Erik nods and rubs at his chin. "It's too late to try to drive away. It'd be too easy to pick us off on the road. Our best chance might be to wait for them to land and take them by surprise." He glances down at Ororo who is watching the figures flying overhead with interest. "Is there a safe room somewhere?" he asks, nodding at her.

"Yes." Scott leads the way as they hurry back inside.

"We have an automated security system," Scott explains. "I'll activate it. The safest place in the mansion is at the controls of the Danger Room. It has triple reinforced walls and multiple locks." 

"Okay. Scott, you take Ororo and go hide there. Do not come out until either I or Jean signal you over the intercom. If anyone tries to break in, blast them. "

Scott nods and rips open the security panel on the wall to punch in his activation code. When he's done he picks up Ororo and takes off running with her in his arms.

"Bring water in case you have to shelter there!" Erik adds, shouting after him. Scott nods once and then disappears around a corner, headed toward the elevator hidden at the center of the house.

"Jean," Erik says, turning to her. "Stay with me. Be ready to throw anything you can pick up at them."

Jean nods. She already has a running tally of objects in the mansion that are small enough to lift telepathically, but also large enough to do damage to an invading supervillain. She never expected to use them against the Avengers of all people.

Erik leads her down the hall to one of the side parlors. It's a good defensive position. There are no windows, and the door to the front of the house is narrow and requires going through the security measures in the foyer first. There's also an escape route at their backs, a hidden servants' passage that leads straight to the kitchen.

"If worse comes to worse," Erik asks. "Can you disable someone telepathically?"

"Um, I've never done it before, but theoretically?" Jean says. "We should try to talk to them first though, right? Maybe if we explain what's going on—"

"Somehow I doubt they'll be in a mood to listen," Erik says. There's a crash from the front hallway and the sound of breaking wood. Erik raises his hands in a defensive stance and Jean takes up position behind him and to his left.  

There are a series of explosions as whoever is coming in the front door triggers the security system. The lasers next to the door go off in a series of loud zaps and sizzles. Jean hopes for a second that that might be enough to take the invader out, but then there's a loud echoing boom and the lasers go silent. Jean can smell something burning and she raises her arm to cover her mouth with her sleeve.

Cautious footsteps sound in the foyer, slow steps coming toward them. Erik shifts his stance and Jean tenses. She suddenly wishes she thought to grab her mask out of the car before they ran inside. Her face feels naked without it.

To Erik's credit, he doesn’t immediately attack when Iron Man appears at the door behind a wisp of smoke. He only shifts his weigh, turning slightly so he can see Jean out of the corner of his eye while still keeping Iron Man at his front.

"Aha! Found you!" a voice says, the tinny sound of Tony Stark's voice being broadcast from within the Iron Man suit.

Erik raises his hands, holding them palm out in front of him. "We don't want any trouble. Let us leave in peace and we don't have to come to blows."

Jean takes a step to the side, trying to get a clear view of where Iron Man is standing. She’s worried she won’t be able to throw the vase on the fireplace without hitting Erik in the back of the head.

Erik signals at her without looking and shakes his head slightly. "Stay behind me, Marvel Girl."

"Hey, kid," Iron Man says, the blank faceplate of the suit turning toward where Jean is standing. "Is this guy bothering you?"

"What?" Jean takes a step back. "No, we don't want any trouble."

"Uh-huh," Iron Man says. "Well, in that case you won't mind returning to S.H.I.E.L.D. to answer a few questions."

"No," Erik says. "We're not coming back to New York with you." His brow furrows in concentration like he's preparing to use his powers. 

Jean squares her shoulders, realizing they're really going to fight. At least it’s only Iron Man.

"You can't say I didn't ask nicely," Iron Man says.

"What are you going to do? Arrest me?" Erik asks. He says it in a dangerous tone Jean recognizes from past tense negotiations with the X-Men. "Do you really want to try to take me in? With the child watching?"

"The child?" Jean repeats, but Erik raises his hand, signaling for her to be quiet.

Iron Man shrugs, a motion that seems oddly out of place coming from a man in a metal suit. "Yeah, pretty much. We weren't exactly planning on letting you waltz out of here with three kids in tow. Now, why don't you let the girl go?"

Erik holds one hand out to block Jean's path like she might actually take Iron Man's offer and leave them alone to their stupid fight. Not that Iron Man is much of a threat to Erik, but the other Avengers must be nearby if he said "we."

"Come on," Iron Man continues. "Nobody wants to see one of the kids get hurt. At least I hope not." He shrugs again and holds up his hands in a gesture that would seem peaceful if it weren't for the pulsars guns in the palms of his suit.

"I'm not a kid!" Jean says, but they both continue to ignore her. Jean chews on her lip, wishing she knew what to say to defuse the situation. Erik seems to be taking Iron Man's arrival as an automatic threat when really it would be better if they all pooled their resources to find the Professor. If she could just get him to stand down so they can talk.

"If you care so much about her welfare, let us leave," Erik says, and now he's using his gruff supervillain voice, which is really not a good sign. "I have no desire for a confrontation. But I don't take well to threats, especially not toward young mutants under my charge."

Iron Man makes a coughing sound that might be a scoff, the noise twisted by the mechanical distortion of his speakers. "I'm not the one making threats and refusing to answer a few simple questions."

"Are you sure you want a fight?" Erik asks. He sounds irritated and not the least bit afraid. "Because I can’t see that ending well for you."

"Oh really?" Iron Man says, asking almost lazily. His chest plate opens, revealing a row of missiles underneath aimed directly at Erik. "Why's that?"

Erik's lip twists up in a smile and he closes his fist. There's a loud flash and a bang as one of the missiles implodes in on itself. The explosion throws Iron Man backwards and Jean hears the wood paneling in the hallway splinter as he slams into the foyer wall. An acid, burning stench fills the room.

"That's why," Erik says, speaking softly. Jean doubts that Iron Man heard, but Erik doesn't seem to care. He steps forward and motions for Jean to follow, walking out into the hallway where Iron Man is lying in a wreck on his side. He must have slammed into the ceiling as well as the wall, and there's plaster dust and splinters all over the floor.

Erik moves his hand and there's a metallic crunch as Iron Man twists over in an unnatural position. Each time Erik flexes his hand the suit twists and bends. Jean hopes he isn't hurting him. At least not permanently.

Evidentially, Iron Man's speakers are still working as he lets out a loud cough like he's clearing his throat. "…Magneto, I presume?" he asks, sounding slightly concerned.

Erik twists one wrist in answer and a shower of sparks come from Iron Man's chest. 

"Okay, kind of regretting coming on this mission now," Iron Man says. His voice is starting to become distorted, sounding more and more mechanical as the suit fails.

There's a shout from behind them and Jean turns, not recognizing the voice as Ororo's at first. The high shriek doesn't sound familiar at all, and Jean is very familiar with all of Ororo's cries. She knows the whining one Ororo uses when she wants something, the vengeful one she makes before dealing out retribution, and especially the frustrated, angry one she does when she can't get her own way. This shout doesn't sound like any of those. It sounds wild and out-of-control and frightened. When Jean turns Ororo is kicking uselessly in the arms of the Black Widow, who has her pinned tight against her chest with a gun pressing into her neck.

Jean steps forward uselessly and yells, "Put her down!" She knows she should do something, but she can't think what.

There's a blur beside her and then Erik is stepping forward making a sweeping motion with his right arm. In the same instant, the Black Widow's hand moves upward, following the same arc as Erik's motion. The gauntlet on her wrist hits her hard in the face and Black Widow's head snaps back with an audible crack. The gun clatters to the ground and Black Widow lands next to it, collapsing on her side seemingly unconscious. Erik sweeps the gun away and out of her reach with a quick wave of his hand. Ororo squirms out of the Widow's grasp and kicks her in the leg for good measure.

Jean holds out her arms and Ororo races across the room to her. She's running so fast she almost knocks the breath out of Jean, colliding with her waist with another shriek. Jean scoops her up and Ororo wraps her arms tightly around her neck.

"Where's Cyclops?" Erik asks.

"She hit him!" Ororo replies, pointing at where the Black Widow is lying unconscious on the floor and glaring from the safety of Jean's arms.

"I'm here!" a voice croaks from behind them. Scott comes into the hallway, rubbing his head as he climbs past the ruined remains of Iron Man's suit. "Sorry, they cut me off before I could get to the Danger Room and we had to take evasive maneuvers."

"Are you all right, boy?" Erik asks. He slowly curls his hand into a fist and there's a loud metallic grinding noise that Jean really doesn't want to think about.

Scott stands up straighter, squaring his shoulders as he comes to a stop in front of them. "She got the drop on me. I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting it."

"Sorry doesn't cut it on the battlefield," Erik snaps. "I expect better from the Professor's students. Keep your guard up from now on."

"Yes, sir." Scott replies, still standing at attention and all but saluting.

A crash comes from behind them and Jean turns to see that Stark has somehow managed to blow the faceplate off the Iron Man suit. He's still frozen in place in a heap on the floor, but now they can see his panting, sweaty face inside the suit.

"We'll catch up to you, Magneto!" he says. "You can't go around kidnapping children and expect to get away with it."

"We haven't been kidnapped!" Jean says, throwing up her hands. If he would just listen she could explain everything. "Iron Man, Magneto was only trying to help. We should have told you earlier--"

"Kid, I don't care what promises he's made," Stark says, his eyes turning toward her. "You can't seriously trust that bast—"

Erik gives an elegant flip of his hand and the faceplate flies up to cover Stark's face again, cutting off his last words. " _Excuse me_ ," Erik says. "There are children present." 

"Now what?" Jean asks, shifting Ororo in her arms. God, she's gotten heavy lately.

"We have to leave before their backup arrives," Erik says. "Do you have everything you need?"

Jean nods. "It's all in the car already."

"Good. Let's go then."

Jean's last glimpse of the foyer is Black Widow lying on her side, her red hair fanned out around her and covering her face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riding in a flying car turns out to be less fun than you might assume.

They find one of the Avenger's weird flying cars parked on the south lawn of the mansion behind the azalea bushes. Erik decides to "appropriate" it, and this time Jean and Scott don't argue with him about the morality of car theft. After a few false starts he figures out the controls and they lift off into the air. Admittedly, it's pretty cool. Ororo sits up front and helps Erik drive by pretending to pull various levers and making "vroom" noises. 

The only problem with the flying car is that, much like the Corvette it's based on, it doesn't have much in the way of storage space. Jean and Scott wind up crammed in the backseat squashed between their bags and the futuristic doors.

There's an AM/FM radio, at least, and Erik scans it as they drive. He seems to be searching for news, tuning it with an irritated twitch of his finger each time the current station dissolves into static. Jean stares out the window, watching the sky for any incoming Avengers.

"Where are we going?" Scott asks at one point.

"South," Erik says. He refuses to elaborate more than that, brushing off their questions with irritation until they both give up asking. 

"Could we fly this thing to Germany?" Jean asks, changing the subject.

"Maybe," Erik says, sounding dubious. "It runs on some sort of fuel cell and I'm not sure how long the charge will last. I don't want to risk us dropping out of the sky over the Atlantic Ocean."

"But aren't we wasting time?" Scott asks. "We should leave right now! Who knows what's happening to the X-Men?" Jean nods in agreement.

"No," Erik says, the irritation in his voice increasing. "Even if I can figure out how to charge this thing, we'll get there much faster if we take one of the Brotherhood's planes. This ship only has a top speed of two hundred miles per hour."

They go in circles arguing for a while, but Erik seems determined to stick with their plan. He also still refuses to tell them where they're going. Jean gives up arguing eventually, sighing and leaning back in her seat. She shifts around, trying to find a better position against the pile of luggage. Something sharp in Scott's rucksack keeps digging against her side and she can't seem to get comfortable. The seats themselves were clearly not designed for long-distance flying, and Jean is not looking forward to being trapped in the tiny space for however many hours it takes to get to the Brotherhood's secret base.

Jean's trying to adjust one of the suitcases when a crinkling sound comes from the front passenger seat like someone unwrapping a candy bar. Jean tilts her head, trying to hear it better. Ororo has been suspiciously quiet for the past half-hour or so. She hears another crinkle and sits up to lean over the divider. Ororo is hunched over in her seat like she's trying to hide what she's doing and making chewing sounds.

"Hey, what are you eating?" Jean asks.  

"'Muthing," Ororo says, her mouth full. Her lie is somewhat undermined by the fact that Jean can smell chocolate.

"Is that a candy bar? Where'd you get that?" she asks, reaching out and snatching the wrapper from Ororo's clenched fist.

"Hey, that's mine!" Ororo says, climbing up the seat trying to grab it back from Jean.

"You're going to ruin your appetite," Jean says. "You know you're not allowed chocolate until after dinner." 

"I was hungry," Ororo whines. She steps on the dashboard in an effort to get closer to Jean and Erik grabs her leg.

"Hey," he says. "Watch what you're doing, you're stepping on the controls."

"Where'd you get this?" Jean asks again, studying the wrapper. It's a brand she's never heard of before and Ororo is looking increasingly shifty now that she's been caught.

"The mansion," Ororo says, sliding down so only her eyes are visible over the top of the seat.

"Where?" Jean repeats. Ororo mutters something Jean can't hear so Jean says again, "Where?"

"The Black Widow gave it to me," Ororo says, mumbling it into the seat cover.

" _What?_ " Erik says. He turns to grab the wrapper from Jean's hand, causing the flying car to dip noticeably in the air. He holds out the wrapper and brandishes it at Ororo. "Don't eat things given to you by strange women who tried to kidnap you!"

"It was _wrapped,_ " Ororo says, folding her arms and sinking down in her seat in a sulk. "And she didn't try to kidnap me. She said she would take me to meet Thor!"

"She was lying!" Erik snaps. "And she tried to hold you hostage!"

Jean coughs. "You were kind of twisting Iron Man into a pretzel at the time," she points out. "You know, we could have _tried_ to explain instead of jumping into a fight."

"Explain what?" Erik asks. "That you're part of an unregistered vigilante group and are currently teamed up with a wanted mutant terrorist? Oh, you're right, I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. would have released us after that."

Scott pulls himself up over the pile of luggage and leans forward so he can be seen. "We only lied in the first place because we didn't want them to find out the X-Men's identities," he says. "But they found the mansion anyway, so there wasn't much point in fighting them."

"There's no point in surrendering either," Erik says. "And they wouldn't have broken down the door if all they wanted to do was to talk. For all we know, _they're_ the ones holding the X-Men."

"What!?" Ororo says, deeply scandalized. "The Avengers would never!"

"Oh, really?" Erik says, glancing down to glare at her. "What if Charles was kidnapped by the World Security Council? And the Avengers were sent to finish the job by bringing in you three? They might not even know what's happening behind the scenes. They may genuinely think they're doing the right thing by turning you over to the proper authorities."

"But the Professor was captured by this Factor Three group," Jean says. "Not the government—"

"A group that _might_ have infiltrated a NATO airbase," Erik says, pounding his fist on the steering wheel. "If anything, that throws S.H.I.E.L.D. under more suspicion. What if Factor Three is a false flag operation? They might have a connection to Ramstein Air Base because they _are_ the military."

"I don't think that Captain America would—" Scott starts to say, before being interrupted by Erik.

"I don't care what you _think._ What you all have to understand is that we cannot trust these superheroes." Erik's starting to warm up to his rant, gesturing more and more and causing the car to steer erratically with each broad wave of his hand. "Some of them might seem _nice_ and they might even have powers like mutants do, but they're still human and answerable to human governments. The only people we can really trust in this world are other mutants."

"That's not true," Jean says. "Professor X says humans can be good or bad in equal measure, just like mutants—"

"The Professor got his overly-trusting self kidnapped like a fool," Erik says, speaking loudly over her. "So I don't know why you're taking anything he says as gospel."

Jean grunts in annoyance and sits back with her arms folded, not wanting to argue further when Erik clearly won't listen. The others fall quiet as well and they sit in awkward silence for a long time until Erik turns the radio on, scanning the channels with obvious irritation.

Jean stares out the window, watching the passing roads and houses below and letting her thoughts drift as she falls into a travel-induced daze. They fly for hours, heading south at first and then making a notable shift westward. Erik refuses to stop for more than a few minutes at a time and won't take them into any nearby towns. He won't even let them land for dinner. They make an impromptu meal from the leftovers Erik took from the mansion and the sandwiches Jean stole from the Avengers the day before. The sandwiches are slightly smashed and soggy from being in Jean's purse, but still good.

The sun has set and Jean's eyelids are drooping when the flying car makes an unexpected drop, shivering suddenly in the air and falling several hundred feet before slowing to a shaky hoover. "What happened?" Jean asks, pulling herself upright on the seatback. The trees below them have gotten uncomfortably close, looking like they're about to scrape the bottom of the car as they pass.

Erik is holding both of his hands out, his fingers spread wide like he's bracing the car with his powers. "I think the fuel cell just died," he says. "Hold on, I'm going to try to put us down gently."  

The car starts moving again, lurching and tilting in a series of small drops that have Jean's stomach flipping. There's a horrible scraping sound as Erik nearly hits a tree and Ororo screams. Several branches smack up against the driver's side windows and they fall again. The car goes careening back and forth, knocking branches and leaves loose as it crashes through the forest canopy below. Jean nearly gets crushed by her own suitcase and a large lurch sends her flying over the divider into the front seat. She hits the dash so hard it knocks the breath out of her. She wraps one arm around Ororo and tries to hold on as they come to a hard stop, crashing onto the forest floor.

Erik lets out a sigh of relief and releases his hold on the car, the metal creaking loudly. "Is everyone all right?"

"Yes," Scott says, poking his head up from the backseat. He has both of his hands clamped over his head holding his glasses in place. 

"Me too," Jean says, shaking her head and sitting up. They're tilted steeply forward like the back end of the car is hung up on something. Jean tests the front passenger door but it won't open, like it's either stuck or there's something on the other side pinning it shut.

"What happened?" Ororo asks, climbing up from the floor where she was crouched underneath Jean.

"We crashed," Erik says. He flexes one hand and the driver's side door opens with a squeal of metal. The sound of crickets chirping filters in from the outside.

When they climb out they find they're in a small clearing in the middle of a dense forest. The car is caught on a large pine tree that must have been knocked down when they crashed. Its headlights are still glowing faintly, illuminating the clearing, but they're fading quickly. Soon they won't have any light but the moon and stars overhead.

Jean picks her way gingerly past fallen branches and debris to sit on a large stump at the center of the clearing. She feels along her side, tensing when she finds a tender spot where she bruised her ribs. "Now what?" she asks.

Erik shrugs, walking around the car and studying the damage.

"Could you fly it with your powers?" Ororo asks, calling from inside. She's crawling around in the back like she's searching for something, probably trying to find her backpack.

"Maybe for a few minutes," Erik says. "But any more than that would be exhausting. I could try to recharge it, but I'm not even sure how the thing works and I'm afraid I might blow it up instead." He lifts his head and looks up, his eyes going unfocused like they do when he's concentrating on using his power. "It feels like there's a road several miles from here. We can hike there in the morning and find an alternate mode of transportation."

Jean is reasonably sure he doesn't mean hitchhiking.

"I guess we're camping tonight then," Scott says.

"Ew," Ororo says. "I don't want to sleep on the ground." She climbs out of the car with a flashlight in one hand and her toy tiara in the other.

Erik sighs. "You can always sleep in the backseat. You three go pick up some wood we can use for a fire. It's going to be a long, cold night without one."

They go searching together in the woods, using Ororo's flashlight to see. Scott starts an annoying lecture about different sizes of kindling before Jean reminds him that they all took the same survival courses with Professor X. They spend the remaining time arguing about the best way to start a fire without matches until they come back to the clearing and Erik pulls a lighter out of his pocket.  

Once they get the fire going, they set about cooking a makeshift dinner. Erik puts a can of beans next to the fire to warm up while Jean makes several pieces of toast on a stick. Jean's always enjoyed cooking outside and it's almost fun, like they're on a camping trip instead of stuck in the woods after a crash landing. Jean hasn't been camping since the previous summer when Alex and Sean took the three of them to a state park a few hours drive from the mansion. They were supposed to practice survival skills but mostly just goofed off and went swimming.

"I wish we had marshmallows," Ororo says, eating a piece of toast and beans glumly.

"Me too," Scott sighs. "Or hot dogs."

"Just be glad we _have_ food," Erik says, opening another can of beans with a flick of his wrist.

Jean sighs and shifts around on the log they rolled over to sit on. The moon has set by now and the only light in the clearing comes from the fire. It feels safe enough inside the circle of firelight, but strange shadows are playing across the trees ringing the clearing. Jean's not sure she'll be able to sleep tonight. She forces herself to look away from the woods and scrapes the last few bites out of her can of beans before setting it on the ground.

Ororo is eating her toast in tiny bites, like she's drawing it out as long as possible. Her hair is a frizzy mess, with bits of leaves and pine needles sticking out in various places. Jean is not looking forward to trying to comb out the worst tangles tomorrow. Ororo hates getting her hair done and always argues with them endlessly about it. Maybe Jean can just put it in a big ponytail and be done with it. She reaches out to pull one of the pine needles free and Ororo ducks her head.

"Hey!" she says.

"Hold still, you have leaves in your hair."

"Stop it," Ororo whines. "I like them."

"Don't be dumb," Jean says. She untangles the tiara, pulling it free so she can get at more of the leaves. As she lifts it she notices two tiny red lights blinking at the top. "Hey, I didn't know your tiara had lights in it. That's neat."

"Huh?" Ororo says. "No it doesn't."

"Sure, it does," Jean says, holding it up. The lights are so dim she probably wouldn't have noticed them if it weren't so dark. They're attached to a tiny plastic box at the back of the tiara, which must hold the batteries. Actually, the whole thing looks strangely out of place.

Jean tilts the tiara to get a better look, only to be startled when Erik snatches it out of her hand. "Let me see that."

"Hey!" Jean says.

"Give it back!" Ororo demands, holding out both her hands. Erik lifts it higher and ignores them both as he turns the tiara over in his hands. He touches the blinking lights gingerly and the box snaps free in his hand. "Uh-oh," he says.

"What is it?" Scott asks.

"Son of a— _mother_. I checked the ship for tracking devices, but I didn’t think to check your bags."

"It's a tracker?" Jean asks, standing up. She looks around, trying to see if anyone is moving in the woods behind them. Her eyes are night-blind from staring into the fire and she can't make anything out, just vague shapes and flickering shadows.

"Yes, and it's active now," Erik says, holding the little box up so they can all see the blinking lights. "Like it turned on in response to something nearby."

"Can you disrupt the signal?" Scott asks.

Erik makes a fist in response, crushing the device in his palm. "There. But that doesn't change the fact that they probably have this location."

"It's not _my_ fault," Ororo says, looking back and forth between them.

"No one said it was," Erik says.

"You can charge the car back up, right?" Scott says.

Erik says something in response, but Jean isn't paying attention, tuning them both out as she listens to the night noises in the background around them. The crickets are still chirping loudly and regularly, but now there's something else underneath them, something low and mechanical and steadily growing louder.  

"Um, guys?" Jean asks. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Scott asks, glancing back at her.

"That humming noise!" Jean says. They all fall silent and the noise becomes noticeably louder. It's a distant thrumming, like the sound of trucks passing on a far away highway.

Erik closes his eyes and holds up a hand for silence. "Oh, wonderful. There's a very, _very_ large floating metal object moving into the vicinity. It's several miles away still, but feels like it's moving fast."

"Helicarrier!" Scott says. "What'd we do? We could try to make a run for the road."

"In the dark with only one flashlight?" Erik says. "No, what we need is some adverse weather conditions. Ororo, could you whip up a hurricane or a tornado?"

Ororo leaps up looking excited. "Can I make lightning?"

"Only if you try not to hit us," Erik says. Jean is about to protest that Ororo has a bad track record with control, but Erik cuts her off with a wave of his hand. "All of you back into the ship. I'm going to try and fly us out of here. We're sitting ducks otherwise."

As Erik turns, there's a loud popping sound, like a small explosion going off in one of the trees just behind him.

"What was that?" Scott asks, turning his head toward the noise. Jean shakes her head in response, looking around in confusion. Was that a branch breaking? Or something falling out of a tree? Erik, on the other hand, turns away from the sound, spinning around and holding out one hand defensively.

Jean starts to ask him what he's doing before she realizes that the sound was actually something ricocheting off the trees—a gunshot! Someone is shooting at them!

Jean grabs Ororo and dives for the ground just as Erik shouts, "Get down!"

Jean gets a face full of leaves as she lands awkwardly on her side and Ororo lets out a startled yell beneath her.

"Hey, there are kids down here!" Erik shouts, ducking into a crouch behind the stump. The sniper shoots at him in response, sending chunks of rotten wood flying.

"Can't you stop them?" Scott asks, looking panicked from his spot on the ground behind a log.

Erik grits his teeth and raises his hand like he's scanning the trees. He makes a disgusted face as he sneaks a look around the stump. "No metal, they must be using rubber bul—"

There's a horrible loud thump and Erik goes sprawling. He tumbles backward and lands on his side facing away from them. Jean can't see him very well from where she's crouched, but he's lying very, very still.

"Erik?" Jean asks. He doesn't move so she says it again, shouting this time. " _Erik?_ "

Scott yells something behind her and there's a blinding red flash as he raises his glasses to fire in the direction of the sniper. Wood splinters and snaps as he swings his head, destroying a wide swath of the forest around them. From the sound of it he's managed to knock down several whole trees. Jean rolls to the side with Ororo in her arms as a large limb comes crashing through the canopy and nearly lands on top of them.

"Watch it, Scott! You're going to kill us too!" she shouts.

"Sorry," he yells back. He slips his glasses back on and uses them to send a series of more controlled blasts, hopefully forcing the sniper to go for cover. Jean takes the opening to scramble up on her hands and knees and crawls over to where Erik is lying.

"Erik?" she asks, pulling him onto his back and shaking his shoulder. There's a large welt on the side of his head above his ear and a trickle of blood running down, soaking into his collar. He doesn't respond so Jean shakes him harder, panic starting to well up in her chest. "Erik! Come on, we really need you to wake up and fly us out of here."

Scott is still covering them, but Jean realizes she needs to move Erik somewhere with better protection. She gets up in a crouch and tries to drag him by his shoulders, holding him by his armpits, but quickly stumbles under his weight. Ororo comes over to help, crawling across the ground with her head down, and they manage to pull Erik a few feet backward. Ororo loses her grip as soon as they get him back behind the stump and Jean drops him, collapsing into the dirt beside her.  

Erik coughs and lets out a groan, the fall finally waking him. "Erik?" Jean says, shaking his shoulder again. "Erik, can you get up? We have to get out of here." He mumbles something in response and raises a hand to his face, smearing blood over his cheek. He seems disoriented, like he can't see clearly, but he manages to turn over on his side and sit up with Jean's help. She realizes she and Ororo aren't going to be able to get him to the car alone.

"Scott, get over here!" Jean shouts. Scott runs over, firing off a few more red beams over his shoulder as he comes. Together, he and Jean manage to get Erik on his feet and walk him across the clearing to the car. Ororo opens the door and Erik slumps over in the passenger seat, groaning again and rubbing the back of his head.

The wind starts to pick up as Jean climbs inside, rattling the leaves in the trees. Jean thinks it's the helicarrier coming in for a landing until she looks in the backseat and sees that Ororo's eyes have gone white. The temperature is dropping rapidly with the rising wind, making goosebumps stand up on Jean's arms. She pulls the door shut and it slams loudly with another gust of wind.

Rain and hail starts pinging against the windows as soon as the door is closed. "Good work," Erik says, nodding toward Ororo. She beams in response and raises her hands up in the air. There's a loud crack as lightning strikes somewhere nearby, making both Scott and Jean startle.

"Remember not to hit us," Jean says.

"I know," Ororo says. "Besides, we'll be safe in here. Cars are the safest place to be in a lightning storm."

"But this is a flying car!" Jean says. "It doesn't have any tires!"

"It's not the tires," Erik says, sounding deeply irritated, like their voices are hurting him. "The metal acts like a Faraday cage to conduct the electricity safely around the interior."

"How about getting us out of here instead of a science lecture?" Jean asks.

"I'm— _trying,"_ Erik says. He braces one hand on the ceiling and the car shudders, the frame shaking as it starts to lift off of the ground.

"Are you sure he should be driving?" Scott asks from the backseat. "He could have a concussion."

"Shut up," Erik grits out. "All of you _shut up._ "

The noise outside gets even louder as the wind grows strong enough to start shaking the car. Erik is already having difficulty controlling it, and they're soon bobbing and weaving uncomfortably as they rise into the air and hover just above the trees. Jean has a good view of the sky now, peering out the front window. The clouds are churning above them and the only light comes from bright flashes of lightning jumping from cloud to cloud. Otherwise, the sky ahead of them looks clear, and Jean thinks at first that they have a good chance of getting away. Then one of the bolts of lightning strikes something in the sky and there's a strange flicker, like static across a television screen. With another flicker a massive ship becomes visible directly in front of them. It's a helicarrier, and they are so very screwed.

Small fighter planes and flying cars similar to their own start emerging from the helicarrier as soon as it loses stealth mode. They circle around, buzzing through the air but not yet moving in to take them out.

"Um," Jean says.

"I'm _aware_ ," Erik grumbles, his eyes still closed.

The car trembles and the sound of the wind increases like someone opened a window. Jean turns around to see that Scott has done precisely that, and is hanging his head out as he raises his glasses. His force beam strikes the belly of the helicarrier, making a great deal of noise and looking pretty impressive without seeming to do much damage.

One of the S.H.I.E.L.D. planes fires at them in response, a glancing blow that sends the car spinning in circles while Erik struggles to get control of the car. Scott gets thrown across the backseat, but thankfully manages to keep his glasses on.

"Oh no," Jean says. The ships are starting to gather together, flying in formation like they're preparing to come around and fire at them. Erik is listing in his seat like he might pass out at any moment. Meanwhile, the clouds above them seems to be spinning in a very ominous way that is looking increasingly funnel-like. Jean is not especially confident of Ororo's ability to control a tornado. They're likely about to be either shot out of the sky or crash when Erik loses control, and either way, Jean would really rather not crash again.

She closes her eyes. What she really wants, more than anything else, is for Professor Xavier to be here. He would know how to stop this. He would know how to make everyone stop being so stupid and just _listen._

Jean reaches out with her power, moving cautiously. She brushes past minds, taking stock of them without dipping too closely. The helicarrier is like a hornet's nest full of swarming drones, all focused on their specific tasks. There's a harmony to it, each person moving as part of a larger whole. Outside the helicarrier, she can sense the fast-moving pilots swirling around them. They've been told not to fire unless fired upon, and she can feel their collective tension as they wait with their fingers poised over the trigger.

Jean makes her thoughts as big and loud as she can, pushing outward with all her might as she thinks, _"CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS?"_

The others in the car all jump, getting her message even though they weren't her intended targets. Jean can sense confusion coming from the hive, individual drones stopping in bewilderment as they wait for orders or explanation from above.

One of the ships swoops by just overhead, making them all duck in surprise. Something big falls out of it and there's a loud bang as a figure lands on the front of the car, denting the metal of the hood with the impact of his landing. The car shakes violently and Erik makes a strangled noise, gritting his teeth under the added weight. They fall a good dozen feet in the air before he gets control again, Erik sweating and gasping like it's a struggle just to keep them afloat.

"We can totally talk about this!" the man on the hood yells. He stands up from his crouch, revealing the white star and red and white stripes on his front.

"Steve!" Ororo says, climbing up into the front seat.

"Steve?" Jean says, looking at her in confusion. In her excitement, Ororo must have lost her concentration and her eyes have returned to normal. The sound of the wind outside drops perceptively. 

"Wait," Scott says. "You mean Steve is actually—"

Erik shifts in his seat and cries out as the car suddenly tilts forward and starts falling. "Grab something!" he says. "I can't keep us up!"

Captain America nearly gets thrown off, but manages to grab the edges of the windshield as they tumble out of the sky and start smashing through the trees below. Jean braces herself and closes her eyes. She was really hoping they wouldn't crash again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this chapter taking a little longer than usual. The last two will most likely be late as well thanks to the combined distractions of dofp and travel. See you all on the other side! I can't wait to see how this story is jossed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids hang out with the Avengers and things get complicated.

So, it turns out Steve is actually Captain America.

"Duh," Ororo says, rolling her eyes. "Everyone knows that. It's, like, not even a secret."

Jean feels pretty dumb. The name Steve Rogers _had_ sounded vaguely familiar, but it's common enough that she didn't make the connection.

"Well, it's still technically a secret." Steve says, looking apologetic as he glances back at them from the pilot's seat. "Even though my identity is out there if you know your history, S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't like to talk about the fact that the new Captain America is literally the same person as the old one."

The heavy military ship they're inside has none of the comforts of the flying car. It's basically a big square box with stubby wings and a cargo area that looks like it was designed to transport troops as efficiently as possible. Jean is strapped into a seat intended for a much taller adult and the harness keeps digging into her neck no matter how often she tugs it down.

"Is it classified?" Scott asks, tugging on his own safety harness.

"Uh, sort of…" Steve says, looking sheepish as he shrugs. Jean leans her head on the narrow window next to her, pressing her forehead against the cool glass as she strains to see beneath them. They've been circling in the air for several minutes now, waiting for clearance to land on the helicarrier. Jean can see swarms of people in the woods below, lights flashing through the trees as soldiers surround the edges of the scene where they crashed. She wonders what S.H.I.E.L.D. is doing with Erik.

Steve was thrown off the hood of the car as they crashed, thudding to the ground next to a small stream. Jean was tossed around as well, and landed in the backseat on top of Scott and Ororo in a groaning heap.

After they untangled themselves, Scott managed to get the door open and stumbled out. Jean started to follow him before realizing Erik had passed out. He was slumped over in the driver's seat like he was out for good. He wouldn't wake up despite Jean shaking him and Ororo yelling "Erik!" right in his ear.

Jean was considering making a dash into the woods when Steve reappeared, stumbling up to them half-soaked from landing in the stream. "Okay," he said, shaking his head as if he had water in his ear. "Time to go, kids."

Steve hustled the three of them away from the flying car as S.H.I.E.L.D. ships started landing all around them, soldiers pouring out and rushing to cover the area. Jean probably should have protested about leaving Erik behind, but it felt like such a relief to have a seemingly-trustworthy adult there taking charge. When Steve motioned for them to follow, Jean grabbed Ororo's hand and ran after him without thinking.

Now that they're in the air circling the helicarrier, she's beginning to doubt the intelligence of this decision. Erik thought that S.H.I.E.L.D. might be involved in the Professor's disappearance. What if the three of them just walked into the arms of his kidnappers?

By the time they finally land Jean's stomach is knotted up with worry, wondering what their reception will be like. Steve must notice because he pats her on the shoulder before picking up his shield and attaching it to the holster on his back. He leads the three of them down the exit ramp and out onto the windy deck of the helicarrier.

There's a chill dampness in the air outside, the close walls of the clouds making it impossible to tell if they're a hundred feet up or a thousand. Jean's hair immediately gets whipped around into her eyes. She does her best to catch hold of it with her hands and tuck it away. She brought hair ties, but they're somewhere back in the luggage at the crash scene. She wonders if they'll be allowed to get their clothes out of their suitcases or if everything will be confiscated.

The Black Widow is waiting next to the landing pad and nods at Steve as they approach. "Glad you finally got them."

"All in one piece, if a little bruised," Steve says.

Jean glances over at Scott and sees that he's narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. "What do you think they'll do with—" Jean starts to ask him, but cuts herself off when Steve glances back at them, her question carried away by the wind.

As they walk across the deck, the helicarrier breaks through the cloud bank and rises up into the clear night sky above. There's a thin sliver of crescent moon in the west toward the horizon. It's beautiful and startling, a reminder that the long runway they're standing on is actually part of a giant flying ship. Ororo pulls away from the group and looks back like she might be considering running to the edge of the landing strip to look down. Jean grabs her hand and pulls her over to walk between her and Scott.

Steve leads them across the runway past rows of more of the boxy transport ships. They go into a large covered hanger full of S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel working on aircraft, all of them seemingly too busy to take notice of Captain America and the Black Widow escorting three lost kids.

They walk through the hanger and into the depths of the helicarrier, passing through several corridors and confusing turns before Steve brings them to a stop in front of an elevator door. He presses the call button and the doors open immediately with a metallic chime.

They go inside and Steve punches a number into the keypad and then presses his thumb to a fingerprint reader. It glows red once and chimes as the elevator begins moving, carrying them down into the bowels of the helicarrier.

They ride in silence. Jean finds herself fidgeting with her hair and glances at Steve and the Black Widow out of the corner of her eye. They're both calm, the Widow looking bored even. She's pursing her lips like she's irritated by the elevator's slowness. She sighs a little and glances at Scott. "Sorry for hitting you, kid."

Scott does a double-take and then looks away from her. He shrugs. "Oh, that's okay. Sorry for almost hitting you with my eyebeams."

One corner of the Widow's mouth twitches and nearly becomes a grin. "Only almost."

The elevator chimes again and comes to a halt. The doors slide open to reveal a large windowless room chock-full of machine parts and dismantled computers. It looks like some sort of laboratory with dozens of different workstations set up around the room and a large holographic computer display at the center. The room is surprisingly quiet after the hustle of the flight deck. There doesn't appear to be anyone here despite the scattering of half-finished projects in various corners. It reminds Jean somewhat of Hank's lab in the basement of the mansion, although Hank always keeps his space much neater.

Steve walks toward the center of the room, turning his head like he's looking for someone. "Stark?" he asks. Black Widow motions for the three of them to follow and they all step out of the elevator after him.

"Stark?" Steve says again.

"Busy," an annoyed voice says, calling from somewhere on the left side of the room. Steve turns toward the voice and pushes a heavy cart aside, revealing a man with a goatee sitting on the floor surrounded by pieces of machinery. The parts piled around him are all painted with glossy gold and red paint, but the shine has been rubbed off or chipped away in many places, making them look much the worse for wear. The man is holding a metal plate in his hands and seems to be working on it with a tiny screwdriver. He looks tired and disheveled, like he's been sitting on that floor for a long time.

"Very busy," the man continues. "As you could probably guess from the 'busy' light which is currently _on_ —the whole purpose of which, by the way, is to prevent people from interrupting me when I'm doing delicate work that requires close attention to—" The man looks up and notices Scott, Jean, and Ororo for the first time. "What—are those the kids? Why are they here?"

"Yes, those are the kids," the Widow says. "We wanted to go somewhere quiet to talk while things are being sorted out topside."

The man stands up and frowns at them. "Here? They can't stay here. I haven't finished baby-proofing."

"We're not babies," Ororo says.

"Of course not," the man says, holding out a hand placatingly. "You're at least toddler age."

Ororo frowns at him, but the Widow cuts in before she can respond. "It's just temporary, Stark," she says.

Jean looks back at the man with the goatee and realizes that he looks a whole lot like Tony Stark. Huh, well, they knew Iron Man was around so that makes sense.

"We'll be out of your hair as soon as the operation is completed," Steve says, unstrapping the bottom of his cowl and pulling it over his head, revealing the top of his face and his mussed brown hair. "We should be moving on soon."

Steve sets down his mask and presses a button on the table-sized computer at the center of the room. A holographic image of the helicarrier appears floating in mid-air. There are dozens of tiny ships surrounding it, circling like bees around a hive. Jean steps up to the table and sees that it also has a tiny projection of the forest below them with the stream where they crashed the flying car. There are still a few ships parked on the ground, but most of them seem to have lifted off and returned to the helicarrier. 

Steve folds his arms and turns to look at the three of them, his face growing stern. "So, who wants to tell me what's been going on?"

Scott glances over to Jean and she shrugs. It's hard to know where to start. She scratches the back of her head and runs her fingers through her hair, which is still tangled from the wind on the deck of the helicarrier. She shrugs again.

"Professor Xavier was stolen!" Ororo says. She pushes over a stool from one of the workstations and climbs onto the seat so she can see the top of the table. Once she's perched on top she continues, gesturing wildly. "We were at school and we woke up one morning and he was _gone_."

"Your school being Xavier's?" Steve asks.

"Right," Scott says. "We're all boarders there. The others went looking for him, but they never came back."

Stark comes up and flips his hand through the holographic image. The helicarrier slides away, vanishing off the edge of the table. Stark performs a complicated series of motions as various boxes appear in midair and then vanish with a flick of his fingers. When he's done a holographic reconstruction of the mansion appears on the table. The image rotates slowly, flickering slightly as it shows a 360-degree view of the grounds.

"Cool interface," Scott says.

"It's very intuitive," Stark explains. "Uses a desktop metaphor to represent the file tree and various software programs. Much easier to use than typing in commands by hand."

"Neat," Scott says, reaching out to poke at the hedge in front of the school. His finger passes right through it. "The Professor has a computer in the basement, and sometimes he lets us feed in the punch cards."

"Do you know if it's IBM or UNIVAC?" Stark asks.

Steve clears his throat, interrupting before Scott can answer. "Who are these 'others' you mentioned?" he asks. "Other students?"

Jean bites her lip. "Um, no. The other—our teachers."

Scott nods. "Yeah, our teachers went looking for the Professor. And when they didn't come back we figured we had to do something on our own."

"That's when we went to New York and ran into you," Jean says.

Steve frowns. "And you didn't tell me all this at the time because…?"

"Well, it's more than just a school…" Jean says. "I mean, it's kind of… we weren't supposed to… we're kind of…"

" _Gifted?"_ Stark asks, raising one eyebrow.    


"Yeah," Jean says. "We couldn't tell you what was happening without having to tell you all about the school. So we—lied."

The Black Widow has been silent through all of this, watching quietly from the back of the room, but now she steps forward. "That I can understand. But why call on Magneto of all people for help?"  


Scott looks at Jean, his face twitching like he agrees with her. "Um," Jean says. "It seemed like a good idea at the time?"

Stark coughs like he's covering up a laugh while the Widow looks unimpressed. Steve shakes his head. "Well, I can't say it was the best idea, but you're not the only ones who made mistakes about how to handle this situation." He glances back at Stark and the Widow. "I'm just glad you three are safe now and we're going to do the best we can to find your missing teachers."

Scott opens his mouth, probably intending to tell them about Factor Three and the NATO airbase in Germany they were on their way to investigate, but Jean shakes her head vigorously at him. Erik had been so vehement about S.H.I.E.L.D. being involved somehow; they can't risk revealing too much before they know if they can really trust the Avengers.

"What about Magneto?" Jean asks. "Where did you take him?"

"Magneto's in custody," Steve says, waving a hand so the display returns to the helicarrier and zooms in on a single jet circling to land on the deck. "He'll be brought on board and held in the brig."  

Jean looks around at the metal walls surrounding them. "Um…"

Stark snorts. "This ship has special cells for 'gifted' individuals, including one that should work for your 'friend.' We do know how to handle people with powers—at least when we're prepared for them."

Jean's not sure she likes the sound of that. Does that mean they're prisoners too? Are there cells for the three of them as well?

Steve smooths down his hair and picks up his cowl. "Okay, Natasha and I need to go check in with the Director. Stark, why don’t you show them one of your new gadgets?"

" _Gadgets?_ " Stark repeats. "Do you mean one of my sophisticated engineering marvels controlled by the most advanced artificial intelligence on the planet?"

"Yeah, show them one of those," Steve says, turning away. The Black Widow—Natasha?—follows, throwing them a wink over her shoulder as she boards the elevator. Stark makes an annoyed noise, but it's mostly covered by the sound of the elevator doors closing.

Stark turns to look at them and they all stare blankly back. The expression on his face is like that of a man who's never seen a paper airplane before and has been left in charge of assembling a jet engine.

Ororo breaks the awkward silence by climbing down from her stool and raising her hand into the air. "Question?" Stark says, pointing at her.

"Are you Iron Man?" she asks.

Stark smiles, looking interested in them for the first time. "Yes," he says, standing up straighter. "Yes, I am."

"Is that your armor?" Jean asks, pointing toward the pile of red and gold machinery on the floor.

Stark's expression sours. "Yes, or it was before your buddy Magnets twisted it up into a pile of useless scrap."

"Sorry," Scott says. "Can we help you fix it?"

"No, absolutely not. And you can't touch anything in this room. _Any_ thing _._ " Ororo freezes in place as Stark turns to glare at her. She's standing next to one of the lab tables with her hand extended toward a shiny purple crystal encased in metal tubing and wires, one finger reaching out to touch. She drops her hand and reluctantly retreats to stand next to Jean. There's another awkward pause and Jean shuffles her feet, looking around and wondering what all the half-finished projects are.

Stark leans back against a table and folds his arms. "So, who's your favorite Avenger?" he asks. "It's okay if it's me, you don't have to say Cap just because you met him first."

Jean frowns. The Black Widow used to be her favorite Avenger, but then she clocked Scott over the head and took Ororo hostage. "I'm not really into the Avengers anymore," she says.

"Playing it cool then?" Stark says, looking doubtful. "All right. "

"I like Thor!" Ororo says. "Is Thor here?"

"Ummm… no. He had some family issues to take care of."

Ororo's face drops and she sighs. "This adventure is one disappointment after another."

"Right." Stark turns toward Scott. "What about you, red-eye? Who's your favorite Avenger?"

Scott shrugs. "Captain America, I guess. He fought in World War II."

"Like history, huh? Okay then. Some fun you guys are." Stark sighs. "Can I trust you three to entertain yourselves while I work and not get into any trouble?"

Scott nods at the holographic table. "Can we use the computer?"

"Technically you need a top secret clearance just to press the 'on' button…. but I supposed I have to occupy you _somehow._ " Stark turns and waves his hand, sweeping away the hologram of the helicarrier which is still floating above the table and bringing up an interface full of little rectangular floating boxes. He taps one and the table's surface transforms, becoming a ping-pong table with a net at the center.

"Knock yourselves out," Stark says. A casual wave of his hand causes a virtual ball to ricochet up and down the table before slowing to a bouncing dribble next to where Scott is standing.

Ororo runs up to try hitting the holographic ball herself and is soon fascinated by the virtual physics of the game. After experimenting a bit, Jean figures out how to make a paddle appear in her hand by holding her fist like she's gripping an imaginary handle. She and Scott play several rounds while Ororo watches, running back and forth and trying to snatch the ball out of the air each time it passes over her head.

Stark returns to work on his Iron Man suit. They can hear him quietly cursing under his breath as he struggles to strip out and replace the broken mechanics inside of it.

Scott waits until Stark seems properly distracted before attempting to bring up the menu interface on the hologram. It takes a lot of wild swiping and hand waving before they finally figure out that the menu is accessed by tugging it down from the ceiling like an imaginary curtain on a pull cord. Jean and Ororo play tag—keeping up the appearance of innocent goofing off—while Scott presses various buttons and tries to access the ship's file system through trial and error.

Jean keeps an eye on him as she runs laps around the room and races after a giggling Ororo. He seems to have figured out how to pull up a keyboard and is laboriously typing out various words to search. Stark still seems deeply absorbed in his work, but Jean doesn't want to risk whispering anything to Scott and catching his attention. She forms a sentence in her mind, weighing the words and sharpening them into an arrow before drawing back her mental arm and sending it flying toward Scott. _Did you find anything?_

Scott startles, his hands skittering as he mashes out a series of nonsense words. _Geez, warn a guy before you do that will you?_

_Sorry. But did you find anything?_

_I'm not sure. I tried searching 'Xavier' first but nothing came up. Then I tried searching 'mutant' and_ lots _of things came up, but everything needs a passcode to read._

 _Try searching for Magneto,_ Jean suggests, dodging around a stool as Ororo climbs under a desk to elude her. _Maybe you can figure out where they're holding him._

Scott frowns, but tries, typing frustratingly slowly as he hunts and pecks across the keyboard.

 _There's an H in Lehnsherr,_ Jean says, slowing down to peak over his shoulder. _L-E-H-N-S—_

_Okay, okay, I got it._

This search pulls up a lot of files, dozens of small grey boxes that are stamped "restricted access." Tapping on one opens a green window asking for a password with no clues to the contents, although Jean supposes it contains files about the Brotherhood. Jean wonders if her powers are strong enough to find a password in someone else's mind. She's not sure how she'd even begin looking for one. Professor Xavier always makes that sort of thing seem so easy.

 _What's that?_ Jean thinks, pointing at a box that's lit up brighter than all of the others. There's a clicking sound as she touches it and the box vanishes, replaced with a confusing mess of lines that seems to be some kind of schematic. Scott makes a pinching motion with his fingers and the map expands, revealing itself to be a blueprint of the helicarrier. There are moving white dots in various places on the map and when Scott taps one a little text label appears above it. "Bridge – Dtr. N. Fury."

"What's that? Are we on there?" Ororo asks, ducking under Scott and Jean's arms to see the map. She stands up on her tiptoes and tries poking at one of the dots, but she isn't tall enough to reach.

"Shhhh," Jean hisses.

There's a soft _hrmph_ from the back of the room. "What are you looking at?"

All three of them jump and turn to find Stark standing directly behind them. Scott points down at Ororo. "She has to go to the bathroom."

"No, I don't," Ororo says.

"You always have to go to the bathroom," Jean says.

"Oooo-kay," Stark says, not sounding like he believes them in the least, but like he's willing to let that slide. He waves a hand and there's a soft whirring sound as the map vanishes and the computer powers down. "In the future why don't you try asking _me_ where the bathrooms are first? Or any other questions you might have, like where on the ship we're holding your terrorist babysitter."

"He's not our babysitter," Scott says.

"We're way too old to need a babysitter," Ororo adds.

"I'm not very good at judging kid's ages. Or adults. Come on, why don't we take a little trip up to the bridge and see how things are progressing, hm?"

Stark walks over to the elevator and types something into the keypad. "Coming?" he asks, looking over his shoulder as the door dings and opens.

Jean exchanges a look with Scott and Ororo and shrugs. They pile on board the elevator and watch as Stark uses the fingerprint reader. This ride seems to last a long time, longer than the trip down to the lab, but maybe that's just because it feels more awkward without Steve there.

When the elevator slows to a stop the doors open to reveal a command center filled with tall windows and beeping computer displays. There are dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel in uniform sitting at various stations around the room. Stark looks very out of place among them in his black t-shirt and jeans.

"Shouldn't you be working on your suit?" a voice asks, coming from the front of the room. There's a man standing there on a circular platform with his back to them, his hands crossed behind him as he stares out the windows at the cold grey clouds outside.

"Finished it," Stark says. Jean is pretty sure that the Iron Man suit he was working on is not anywhere near finished, but she figures it won't endear her to him to point that out. "The kids were getting antsy," Stark continues. "Thought I'd take them for a walk."

"To the bridge?" the man asks, turning toward them and revealing that he has an eye patch over his left eye.

Ororo pokes Jean in the side and whispers, "That's Nick Fury!"

"I know that," Jean says. Fury raises an eyebrow and looks down at them, not looking amused.

"Director Fury? Sir?" Scott says, quailing slightly when Fury turns in his direction. "Uh, could we ask you a few questions?" 

"That depends on the questions," Fury says, eyeing Scott. He steps down from the raised platform, joining them on the floor of the bridge. "But I suppose you can ask."

Scott shuffles his feet like he's resisting the urge to squirm. "Uh, where are we going?"

"That's all you wanted to ask?" Stark says. "I could have told you that."

Fury ignores Stark and walks across the room to a glowing green screen that looks like a topographical map full of undulating lines. He presses a button beneath it and the display resolves into a political map of Europe and the Atlantic. "We're going here," he says, pointing to a spot on the lower left. "The Canary Islands. Two days ago an American military base in West Germany was attacked. We have reason to believe the assailants made their escape to here."

Jean startles. "A military base? Like Ramstein?"

 "Heard of it?" Fury asks, sounding surprised.

"We were going there," Scott says. Jean starts to glare at him, but she can't really be mad since she already let that particular cat out of the bag. 

"Well, you were headed in the wrong direction," Fury says.

"No. I mean, eventually," Scott says. "We were going to make a stop first and—what happened at Ramstein?"

"The US military is still investigating," Fury says. "But it looks like—"

Someone clears their throat, interrupting Fury, and they turn to see Steve walking onto the bridge from the elevator. "This isn't the best place to hold this conversation. Or for you three to be." 

"Hi, Steve!" Ororo says.

Steve stops in front of her and nods. "Hi. Why don't we take this somewhere more private?"

Steve turns to leave and Stark starts to follow, but Fury clears his throat and says, "Don't you have something important you were _very_ busy with, Stark?" 

Stark looks affronted for a moment, but then his expression clears to one of studied indifference. "That’s—right," he says, shrugging as he walks backwards away from them. "You two can babysit for a while _. I_ have work to do."

Fury leads them across the bridge to a door, which takes them to a small corner office. There are a few utilitarian-looking chairs and a metal desk inside. The desk is topped with a set of glasses and a decanter full of some kind of dark liquor, but nothing else in the way of personal items. Jean supposes this must be a meeting room where Fury takes visitors who are too important to talk to out on the bridge.

Ororo sits in one of the chairs, looking tiny with her legs dangling over the edge of the seat. Jean and Scott hover uncertainly next to Fury and Steve. There aren't enough chairs for all of them.

"Sit," Fury says, pointing at one of the chairs and glaring in their general direction. Scott and Jean sit. Fury folds his arms and leans against the desk, looking at them as Steve takes the last seat. "Well? You wanted to do the briefing."

Steve clears his throat. "Approximately forty-two hours ago Ramstein air base was attacked by the Brotherhood of Mutants."

"What?" Jean says, even as the pieces start to come together in her mind—Mystique and Azazel, and their mission that was too important to delay for three lost children.

"Their objective was not entirely clear," Fury continues. "But we don't believe it was successful. They attempted to impersonate several base personnel but were detected and intercepted before they could access a restricted area."

"And they were captured?" Scott asks.

Fury gives him an odd look. "No, all of the Brotherhood members escaped, but not without leaving their calling card." He touches a hidden control panel under the desk and a hologram appears on top of it, apparently using the same technology as the table in Stark's lab. He taps a few buttons and an image appears; a photograph showing a rough symbol hastily painted on a wall in sloppy lines that are dripping red—the mutant 'M' surrounded by a circle.

Jean stares at it while trying to make sense of what Fury is saying. If the Brotherhood wasn't captured in the attack… why didn't they come to pick up Erik and the three of them like they planned? Did they go to ground? Or were they delayed somewhere else after the mission failed? Maybe they didn't want to lead S.H.I.E.L.D.'s forces back to where Erik was hiding.

"We've told you what we know," Fury says, turning to look at Scott, one eyebrow arching over his patch. "Now I think it's time you tell us what _you_ know."

Scott glances over at Jean and swallows. Jean shrugs in response. "We don't really know anything. Magneto wouldn't tell us what the Brotherhood was up to."

"But he was taking you three to Ramstein?"

"…yeah," Jean says.

"We thought we could find the—our teachers there," Scott explains. "Or a clue where they were taken. We didn't know the Brotherhood had attacked it."

"Hmmm," Fury says, sounding skeptical.

"We didn't!" Jean says. "We knew they had some kind of a mission, but, Eri—they were keeping it a secret from us."

Fury turns to look at Steve, who nods in response to some silent signal. "Misdirection," Steve says.

"Huh?" Scott says.

"Magneto was trying to lure you somewhere," Fury explains. "Another Brotherhood base in Europe probably. He pretended to help you in order to make you compliant and easier to manage."

Ororo snorts like she finds this ridiculous and tugs on Jean's shirt. "That's not true, he said he'd help us find the Professor!"

Jean nods, but she's getting a sinking feeling down in her stomach. She looks over at Scott, whose jaw is set tightly. He thought it was a bad idea to trust Erik in the first place. He's probably feeling vindicated now.

"But what about Factor Three?" Jean asks.

"Factor Three?" Fury says, looking confused. "What do you know about them?"

Jean glances at Scott who shrugs. "Nothing really, just their name and that they might be the ones who took the Professor."

Fury narrows his eye. "Factor Three is an underground mutant group that appeared in Europe within the last year. But as far as I know they weren't involved in what happened in Ramstein."

"But we thought that—" Jean stops, not sure how to continue. They thought what? They hadn't had any actual evidence to go on. Just the X-Men's suspicions about Factor Three and a cryptic note scrawled in the Professor's handwriting.

"It would make sense if Factor Three was actually a front organization," Fury says, one hand coming up to stroke his chin. "It's rumored to be led by a man who calls himself the 'Mutant Master,' but there are no direct eyewitness accounts of anyone meeting him."

"The Mutant Master?" Scott repeats. He looks at Jean and frowns. "That sounds like Magneto."

It does sound like him. What did Erik say before? _If the Brotherhood did something, I would want our name on it._ But, then, he _would_ say that if he were secretly using a front organization to obscure the Brotherhood's activities. Still, they don't have any _proof_.

"You don't know that it's him," Jean says. "You're just assuming that because you think he's a bad guy."

"I don't _think_ he's a bad guy," Fury says, his voice turning into a deep growl. "I _know_ it." He pounds the surface of the desk and the holographic image changes to a series of small black and white photographs. "This is the casualty list from you friends' raid on Ramstein air base."

Jean jumps slightly in her chair, startled by Fury's anger.

"Twelve base personnel were injured in the attack and three were killed," Steve explains, his voice quiet.

"Oh," Jean says.

"The Brotherhood probably abducted your 'Professor' in the first place," Fury says, folding his arms. "Classic tactics—remove the leadership first and then divide the remaining team so it's easier to take them out separately."

That does make a lot of sense. The three of them were ready to fly halfway around the world with Erik on a hunch. But something is still nagging at Jean. After all, she contacted Erik first, not the other way around. But then there was the Professor's note about Ramstein. Did he know about the Brotherhood's attack in advance? Was he trying to stop it? Might that be why he was kidnapped? She starts to open her mouth to ask another question but then closes it, unsure of herself.

Scott looks toward Steve. "You said the Brotherhood was trying to get into a restricted area at the base. What area?"

"Some kind of top secret laboratory for a classified military project," Steve says. "We don't have all the details yet."  

Jean clears her throat, getting their attention and trying again to speak. "I want to see Magneto," she says. "I want to talk to him."

Steve looks surprised and shakes his head. "No, Jean, I don't think that's a good—"

Fury holds out a hand, stopping him. "No, let her. I want to see what he has to say."

Steve frowns at him in response but Fury is already pushing back from him desk, moving toward the door. He presses a button next to the doorway and speaks into an intercom there. "Natasha," he says. "Meet me in brig 1-M."

The brig is deep within the bowels of the helicarrier. The elevator ride down to it takes twice as long as the ride to the lab. When they come to a stop they step out into in a dim claustrophobic series of narrow hallways.

The Black Widow is waiting for them outside the elevator and she nods to Fury as he passes before falling in line behind them.

The hallway is so narrow they have to walk single file. It reminds Jean of a submarine movie she saw on TV once. Fury and Steve are leading the way, with Scott following. Jean trails behind him, looking around at the doors as they pass. There are lots of doors down here, most of them with very solid-looking locks. Surely they can't all be prison cells?

Jean is holding Ororo's hand, and she keeps having to tug on it as Ororo drags her feet. Jean turns to tell her to walk faster and notices that Ororo is sweating, her eyes looking a bit wild. "Are you okay?"

Ororo nods, tugging at the collar of her shirt. "I'm fine, it's just hot in here."

It's not hot, but it is confining and dark. Jean looks around, wondering if there's a window or a bigger room anywhere nearby. Natasha is walking behind them and she's forced to stop when they do. "Is something wrong?" she asks.

"She's claustrophobic," Jean says.

"No, I'm not," Ororo says, glaring at Jean. "I'm fine."

Natasha holds out her hand. "Here, I can take you back up to the deck."

"No," Ororo says. "I want to see Magneto too."

"The brig is even smaller and more uncomfortable than this," Natasha says. "You don't want to go there."

Jean tightens her hold on Ororo's hand, looking over her shoulder back towards where Scott, Steve, and Fury went. She probably shouldn't let Ororo go with the Black Widow alone, but she feels torn, not wanting to miss this chance to see Erik.

"It'll be fine," Natasha says, looking at Jean. "I'll take her up to the deck for a walk and then find you two when you get done down here."

Jean looks over her shoulder one more time and then nods, letting go of Ororo's hand.

"I'm _fine,"_ Ororo says again. She's sweating even more now and has the slightly glazed expression that she often gets before she throws up.

"No, you're not," Natasha says. Ororo pouts, but lets Natasha lead her away. She must really be uncomfortable to give in so easily.

Jean hesitates for a moment in the hallway and watches them walk away, before turning to run and catch up with the others.

She jogs around a corner and comes to a hard stop, nearly bumping into Scott. He's standing in front of one of the many doors that line the corridor, watching as Fury scans his thumbprint and Steve turns the round metal lock.

Inside two guards are sitting at a narrow table, the wall in front of them crowded with three rows of television screens. Each one of the screens seems to be showing a different angle on the same room, a tiny black and white prison cell with a single cot where Erik is sitting with his legs folded underneath him. One of the cameras is showing a close up of his face and he seems to be staring right into the room at them. It's mildly disconcerting.

There's barely enough room for all four of them to cram in behind the guards once the door is shut, and Jean is relieved that Ororo didn't come with them. She wouldn't have been able to stay here for very long.

"Where's Natasha?" Fury says.

"And Ororo?" Scott adds.

"Black Widow took Ororo upstairs," Jean says, daring Scott to get mad at her. He looks slightly surprised but doesn't say anything. For his part, Fury makes an annoyed grunt and turns away toward the guards. "Has he said anything?" Fury asks.

"No, sir," one of the guards says. "He asked for some water at oh-six-hundred, but has otherwise refused to communicate with us or any of the interrogators."

The word interrogator makes Jean shift uncomfortably. She wonders how many people have been down here trying to get Erik to talk. It can't be more than a few hours since they were captured, but Jean's sense of time is confused from being inside the mostly-windowless helicarrier.

"Still want to do this?" Steve asks, touching her shoulder.

"Sure, she does," Fury says, taking over a chair one of the guards vacated for him. He leans back like he's about to watch a very entertaining movie.

Jean looks up at the screen with Erik's staring face. She clears her throat and nods.

"Okay," Steve says, squeezing her shoulder. "If you want to leave at any time just tell me and we'll go."

Steve pushes past one of the guards to reach a door on the opposite wall. The guard has to punch in a code in order to open the door for him. It chimes once and opens with a loud click. Steve beckons to Jean as he steps inside.

There's a sort of anteroom there, like a cloakroom, with hooks on the walls and little cubbies to hold belongings. Steve takes off his belt and boots and then unsnaps the harness he wears over his shoulders for his shield. Jean takes off her own belt and checks that her pockets are empty. She's not sure if her shoes have any metal in them, but she toes them off anyway as well.

There's a stack of little paper booties on a shelf in the corner, but Steve ignores them, walking out of the anteroom in his stocking feet. Jean starts to follow him, but an alarm goes off as she steps through the doorway.

"Your hair clips," Steve says, pointing to his head.

"Oh." Jean quickly removes them and when she walks through a second time the alarm doesn't go off.

Jean follows Steve into a strangely sterile white corridor. It's as narrow as the hallways outside, but there are no doors here, just a long straight white pathway. The walls are vaguely shinny, like they're wet, and when Jean runs her hand over one she finds that it's smooth and cool.

"Plastic?" Jean asks.

Steve nods, looking at her over his shoulder. "This entire side of the deck is nothing but synthetic plastics."

"Was it designed for Magneto?" Jean asks, thinking about how expensive it would be to build a custom cell for a prisoner they might never capture.

Steve shakes his head. "For him or anyone else with a similar set of powers. Director Fury's motto is to always be prepared."

They walk for what seems like a very long time. Jean's feet keep slipping on the smooth linoleum floor. She hopes she doesn't wear a hole in the bottom of her new tights.

Eventually they reach the end of the hallway and come to a stop in front of a round opening that looks like the door to a bank vault. Except Jean has never seen a bank vault made of plastic. Steve spins the elaborate wheeled mechanism and there are several thumping noises, like locks releasing. He pulls on the handle and the door opens outward, revealing Erik seated on the cot inside.

For a moment Jean thinks they're going to walk straight into Erik's cell, but then she realizes that there's a wall of clear glass or plastic dividing the room. Erik is on the opposite side of the glass, his head tilted back as he watches Steve enter. He startles slightly when he sees Jean and stands up.

Now that she's seeing him in color, she can tell that he's still wearing the same shirt he had on last night. The fabric is rumpled and stained red around the collar where he's been bleeding. He raises one arm over his head to rest it on the clear wall, revealing a rip in the seam under his armpit.

"Jean?" She thought his voice would be muffled by the glass, but there are narrow cutouts in it; thin slits that must be there to circulate air, or to let the guards pass food through without going into the cell.

Jean steps closer and notices movement in the corner of her eye. There's a camera on the ceiling with a motion detector and another on the opposite wall. They both twist as Jean walks up to stand in front of Erik.

Erik smiles, smirking slightly. "Come to gloat over the prisoner?" he asks, glancing toward Steve and then back at her.

Jean doesn't know what to say in response and when she opens her mouth his name comes out in a broken squeak. "Erik." She realizes her mistake at once and feels her face heating up with embarrassment.

His face softens and he leans forward so his forehead is resting against the glass. "It's okay," he says, his voice losing its sardonic edge. "They already have my name."

Jean nods but she's still too choked up to speak. She came here to demand answers from him but now she just feels uncertain and scared. Was Erik really trying to help them? Or was he luring them back to some lair so the Brotherhood could brainwash them? She doesn't think he was, but then she doesn't really know him. But she also doesn't have anyone else to depend on right now.

Jean leans forward, pressing her face to the cold surface of the glass and pretending it's Erik's shoulder. The cutouts are nearly wide enough to fit a hand through, and Erik reaches out, his fingers just barely glazing her cheek. It's not hard to call up tears, especially with Erik so close, his face distorted by a ripple in the glass. "Everything is going to be fine," Erik says. Jean nods, although she doesn't believe him. "Are Scott and Ororo okay?"

Jean nods again, but can't bring herself to speak. She can see the dark welt over Erik's ear where the rubber bullet hit him. There's a rough scab there, dried blood staining the skin. "Does your head hurt?" she asks, her voice sounding strangled and weak.

Erik huff softly and reaches up to touch the spot tentatively with one finger. "Yes," he says. "This is why I usually wear a helmet."  

Jean laughs, surprising herself. "Sorry they locked you up," she says, remembering that it was sort of her fault they were captured.

Erik shrugs and looks behind him at his tiny cell with its single cot and the toilet in the corner. "It's all right. At this point, I've probably spent more years in prison than you've been alive."

Jean frowns and sniffs, taking a deep breath. Erik still has one hand halfway through the opening in the glass and he strokes her cheek awkwardly while she tries to collect herself. She takes long deep breaths, willing herself to calm down.

Erik looks over her shoulder while he waits for her to collect herself, staring at Steve standing in the corner. Steve's mask is off; leaving his face bare, and Erik's eyes rove over it, studying his features. "You're really the same man aren't you?"

"Hm?" Steve looks flustered, his hand rising up to touch his chin. "Oh, yes. I am."

"Did the super-soldier serum keep you from aging?" Erik asks, tilting his head.

"Uh, it does. But there were other—circumstances. Classified ones."

Erik nods like he expected as much, still studying Steve face. "I met you once, as a child. Well, not met. Saw."

Steve laughs, looking away like he's embarrassed. "Let me guess, USO show?"

"No." There's a pause, but Erik doesn't seem interested in explaining himself. He just keeps staring at Steve, who's starting to look uncomfortable.

Jean sniffs again and stands up straight, figuring she might as well interrupt them and come to Steve's rescue. She squares her shoulders. "It's been nine days now," she says, looking at Erik.

"We'll find them," Erik says.

"Will we?" she asks. She licks her lips, pausing a moment before continuing. "Do you… do you know where they are?"

Erik tilts his head. "No? That's why I came with you. To go looking."

"To Ramstein," Jean says.

Erik nods, looking at her carefully. "That's right."

"Where the Brotherhood was," Jean says. "The base that Mystique went to infiltrate."

Erik's eyes grow cold, his expression closing off. "They know about that then?"

Steve clears his throat. "Yes, I'm afraid the raid was interrupted before they could complete it."

Erik's eyes track over to Steve's face. "But not captured?"

"No," Steve says, and Erik smiles. It's a slow, confident smile—the smile of a self-satisfied revolutionary. Or a murderer. 

"People died," Jean says. "They killed people."

Erik glances down at her. "Soldiers," he says. "It's a war, Jean, and that base was part of it."

Jean shakes her head. "You lied to us."

He sighs. "I told you there were things it was safer for you not to know."

"Like where you took the Professor and the X-Men?" she says. "Where are they? Are you holding them somewhere? Are they _dead?_ " Her eyes fill with tears, obscuring her vision as Erik takes a deep breath.

"I wasn't involved in their kidnapping and I've never lied to you," he says, looking at Steve rather than at her. "Whatever they've told you, S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers have their own agenda. Use your head, Jean. They're trying to turn us against one another."

Jean shakes her head and turns away. "I want to go now," she says. Steve nods and steps out of the room, holding the door open for Jean as she follows.

Jean doesn't look behind her, but she can feel the back of her neck prickling like Erik is watching during the entire walk down the long, white corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has waited patiently for a new update. And thank you to Unforgotten and Sadcypress for help beta reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get very exciting and the helicarrier does what it was born to do.

It's a relief to walk back through the metal detector and into the small anteroom where they left their belongings. Jean has a moment to collect herself before returning to the room where Fury and Scott are waiting with the guards. She sits on the bench against the wall and looks down at her shoes on the floor, remembering the half-dollar she stashed there two days ago in Central Park. Things seemed a lot more fun then. It was scary that the X-Men were missing, but it was also a sort of adventure. Now Jean just wants to find them and go home.

Steve sits next to her and laces up his boots. It takes a while for him to reassemble all the various straps and accessories that are part of his Captain America uniform. When he's done he puts his hand at the middle of Jean's back. "Ready to go?" he asks.

Jean nods, but doesn't get up. "He should probably get stitches," she says. "I mean, if you have a plastic needle or something."

"He refused to see a medic," Steve says.

"Oh."

"But I think it'll be fine," he adds, running his hand up her back to squeeze her shoulder. "It's not that deep. Head wounds bleed a lot."

Jean nods. "Ororo hit her head on the common room fireplace last month and it looked really bad but when we got to the E.R. they only gave her three stitches."

"That sounds scary," Steve says.

"She screamed a _lot,_ but it wasn't that bad." Jean gets up, finally toeing on her shoes and gathering up the pile of metal objects she left behind earlier. "Okay, let's go."

Scott looks up when Steve enters the room, looking agitated and straining to see Jean behind him. "Why didn't you ask him about their secret base?" he asks. "He'll know what kind of defense they have!"

"He's not going to tell us anything useful," Fury says, folding his arms behind his back as he looms over the guards at their station. "Not until we have more leverage against him. No, our best option now is to strike at the Brotherhood's base of operations straightaway, before they have time to prepare."

"And where is that?" Jean asks. "Some island? Do you think the—our friends are there?"

Fury nods. "In the Canary Islands, and most likely. It appears to be their main headquarters." 

"Why don't I take you somewhere you can rest?" Steve says. "We won't reach the islands for at least another two hours."

Fury signals his approval with a wave of his hand and Scott nods, probably wanting them to be well rested for tactical reasons. They have been awake since the previous night.

Jean follows Steve and Scott out of the room, but she stops in the doorway. Something Erik said at the end is echoing in her mind. _Use your head, Jean._ He said the same thing in the park when they were searching for Ororo and he wanted her to use her powers.

If she wants to know what the Avengers are thinking, and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s real motivations, there's one sure way to find out. She looks back at Fury, who's hovering over the guards' shoulders and staring into the rows of monitors. He's squinting at Erik's face like he would like to peel back the layers of his skin and stare into his skull underneath.

Well, Fury might not be able to read minds, but Jean can. She closes her eyes, concentrating and reaching out tentatively. She doesn't want to go too far. She can't risk getting lost in other minds the way she did last time. There's no one here who can bring her back aside from Erik. Plus, once S.H.I.E.L.D. figures out she's a telepath, what's to stop them from locking her up just like him? If she's careful, Jean should be able to open her mind up enough to pick up surface thoughts but still stay firmly anchored in her own head.

She hears the guards first, two streams of thought blending together into one long ribbon of nervous worry. _What is he doing wish he'd go back upstairs can't take a coffee break with the director standing right over your shoulder not like the prisoner has done anything but scratch his ass for hours god I need a cigarette—_

She hears Steve next, his mental voice carrying the same warmth as his physical one. _Why'd she stop? Must be looking at Magneto on the screens. Poor kid, he really did a number on her. Hope we find Professor X soon, I don't want to have to tell these kids their heroes are all dead. And what are we supposed to do with three powerful mutant kids if they are?_

"Jean?" Steve asks. It takes her a moment to realize he spoke out loud. She turns and comes down the hallway to join him, looking over her shoulder one last time at the room.

 _Gotta get Ororo and get some sleep,_ Scott is thinking. _Get everyone back in one place and take a nap. So tired, reactions slow._

Jean trails down the hallway after Steve and Scott, one ear tuned into their minds. Steve's thoughts feel largely benign and he doesn't seem to be hiding anything, aside from the fact that he already knows Dr. Xavier is Professor X and that the school is a cover story for the X-Men. But Jean spilled the beans on that herself anyway, as if S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't easily fit the piece together themselves.

Jean keeps her focus behind her as they walk, listening hard for Fury's thoughts, but she doesn't catch anything until they're almost to the end of the hallway. She hears one a single line of thought from him, a heavy thread that weighs on her as they rise up in the elevator. _The sooner we capture the rest of the Brotherhood and lock them all up in the Vault, the better. It's too dangerous having these mutants running around loose, even if they are children._

____

Steve takes them to a small room with a bunk bed. It makes Jean think of the room in the Brotherhood's safe house, but without any windows. The room is obviously uninhabited, the lockers and drawers inside all wide open and empty. Steve has to go looking for linens for them and comes back with a pile of blankets and pillows. He helps them make the beds and then leaves a tiny walkie-talkie on the nightstand that they can use to call him when they wake up.

Jean feels hollowed out, like she's too numb to know how exhausted she really is. She lies down on the bottom bunk, not expecting to sleep, but then she blinks and the room is dark and the clock on the nightstand says it's several hours later.   

She sits up with a rush of dizziness and rubs at her eyes. Her mouth tastes sour and she realizes she can't remember the last time she brushed her teeth. She also has to go to the bathroom very badly.

Jean wanders out of the room and finds a shared bathroom down the hall. A woman is coming out of the showers and she gives Jean a weird look, but doesn't stop her. Jean takes care of her bladder and then washes her face in the row of metal sinks. She looks pale in the mirror, except for a spot on her chin where she's getting a pimple. Ugh. She considers popping it, but decides it's better to leave it alone.

When she gets back to the room she tests the walkie-talkie and gets Steve after the second try.

"Scott and I are up on the bridge, why don't you join us?" he says.

"Um, how do I get there?" Jean asks.

"Go find an elevator and tell it who you are. The ship will direct you here."

"…what?"

"Seriously. Try it."

Jean feels very silly, but she does. She goes down the hall to the elevator that she thinks they took from the brig earlier. "Hello? I'm Jean?" she tries. Nothing happens. She's about to radio for Steve again before she has a flash of inspiration and presses the intercom button next to the door. "I'm Jean Grey?"

The elevator dings and the doors open. Jean tentatively steps inside and is whisked upward several flights. When the doors ding open a second time a computerized voice says, "Follow the yellow line to be directed to the bridge."

"I didn't know you could talk," Jean says, surprised.

"I can," the elevator says. "Director Fury finds it unnerving when I do and requests I refrain from backtalk unless it is necessary for successful operations."

"Oh. Well, thanks," Jean says, stepping off.

"You're welcome, Jean Grey," the elevator says, dinging shut pleasantly behind her.  

There are a number of different colored stripes of paint on the wall. Jean follows the yellow stripe down several hallways and two right turns until she emerges at the bridge as promised. Every door she encounters along the way opens smoothly just before she reaches it.

Scott is at the observation window with Steve, standing in the middle of the focused quiet of the bridge. "Hey, Jean! Look, those are the Canary Islands," he says, pointing outside.

Jean isn't entirely sure she knows where the Canary Islands are, but she doesn't want to admit that so she just nods and looks down at the sparkling blue water below. She can see what looks like a single large island in the distance, a long rocky ridge encircled by a ring of white sand. There are tiny buildings along the edges of the beach. Further out, in the water, dozens of rocky black crags stick out of the ocean, cloaked in white where the waves break against them

"Geez, we're nearly there. I thought you were going to sleep through the whole thing!" Scott says.

"I'm sure she needed the sleep," Steve says. "Do you feel better, Jean?"

"Yeah." It occurs to her that Steve (and the ship) didn't know her name several hours ago. Scott must have finished outing their secret identities while she was asleep.

"We're rounding the western edge of the archipelago now," Steve explains. "NATO traced a ship stolen in the attack on Ramstein here. We're trying to flush out the attackers in coordination with the US Navy."

"So you're not sure where exactly they are?"

"No, there was a tracking device on the ship, but it was turned off shortly after it was recorded in this vicinity. It's possible they've moved on since then, but we're hoping there's some kind of a base nearby that the Brotherhood is working out of."

"It's pretty cool," Scott says, one hand flat against the glass of the window as he looks out. Jean shrugs. Standing around here and waiting seems pretty boring to her.

"Where's Ororo?" she asks.

"She's hanging out with Iron Man in his lab," Scott says, still staring outside at the water below. They're passing over a shallow sandbar now, the water lightening to a shimmering pale turquoise. Jean wonders if they can land and go for a swim later if they don't find anything.

The side door to Fury's office opens and the Director himself enters to a shout of "officer on deck!" He nods to Steve and gives Jean and Scott a skeptical look before turning to one of the technicians working the radar controls. "Anything?"

"Nothing yet, sir, but we're seeing some unusual electronic readings near one of the uninhabited islands thirty klicks south southeast of here. Most likely a remote weather station, but we're enroute to investigate."

"Good. Carry on." Fury joins Steve at the observation window, watching as the helicarrier turns toward the south and heads out into the deeper water away from the large island.

Seeing Fury again reminds Jean of her telepathy practice last night. She glances at him sideways and cautiously tries opening up her mind. It's easier this time. She barely has to think about it and she can hear thoughts, like twisting a radio dial.

The technicians around them all have neat, orderly thoughts. Coordinates and status updates from the helicarrier's computers run through their minds as they read them from their screens. In contrast, Scott is a thrum of steady excitement, wondering what they'll find when they arrive at the secret base. Steve's thoughts are quieter and more vague, like he's centering himself.

Fury's thoughts are heavy and shaded just like they felt to her last night. _Let us find something,_ he thinks. _The sooner we find them, the sooner we can start mopping things up. Too many mutants and too many loose variables complicating our work. Most of them might not be able to do the same kind of damage as the Chitauri or the Asgard, but they're a homegrown threat. We have to find a way to detect them, anticipate the danger before it fully materializes…_

"Director, sir?" one of the techs says. "You might want to look at this."

Fury goes over to do so, his thoughts shifting to rapid theorizing. They're getting a reading that shows large amounts of metal embedded inside one of a craggy unoccupied island they are rapidly approaching.

Fury is still standing with his head bowed conferring with the technician when a man at the back of the room stands up abruptly and shouts, "That's a heat signature—sir, we're being fired upon!" 

"From where?" Fury shouts in response.

"The island, it's armed! Brace for impact!"

That's the last warning they get before the entire room shudders, a distant boom echoing through the bones of the ship. Jean grabs the handrail next to the window and Scott nearly falls over before Steve catches his arm to steady him.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Fury shouts. "Turn us around and hit them back with everything we've got!" The ship shakes again with another impact and Fury sits in a large command chair, buckling himself into the harness.

Steve kneels down and puts his hand on Jean's shoulder, pulling both her and Scott in close so they can hear him over the din of shouted orders and further explosions. "Get back to the berthing area and stay there," he says. He looks them both in the eye and squeezes their shoulders one more time before standing up and going to join Fury.

Jean moves to follow Steve's order, but the ship shakes under her feet and she stumbles down to her knees. She bumps into Scott as she falls and knocks him to the ground as well. "Ow."

"Sorry," she says.

"Sir, they're transmitting—"

"Let's hear it!" Fury snaps.

There's a crackle of static and a loud booming voice says, "—fallen into my trap and soon it will spell your _doom_ , and the doom of all who sent you! Only _fools_ would challenge the supremacy of Factor Three and… **_The Mutant Master!_** "

"That's enough," Fury snaps, and the voice is cut off mid-rant.

"That didn't sound like Erik," Jean says, whispering into Scott's ear.

"Well…" Scott says.

"It didn't," she says, glaring at him.

"It could be Mystique," Scott points out. "Or a recording."

"If it was, wouldn't he still say, 'it is I, Magneto'? You know, 'I am power' and that whole thing?"

Scott frowns, his forehead wrinkling as he considers this. "… _maybe_."

"Sir, the transmission—it's not coming from inside the base! He's broadcasting from somewhere else!"

"Track it down, then!" Fury shouts. He turns to direct the full strength of his one-eyed glare at the technician, who is now typing furiously.

"The signal is bouncing, hold on—it's coming in off a hijacked NATO communications satellite."

"Don't give me chase details, I want coordinates! Find him!"

Two other technicians run over to help and there's more manic typing. The front viewscreen changes from a radar image of the incoming missiles to a map of Europe crosshatched with white and yellow lines.  The lines begin to converge on the Mediterranean and the map zooms in, narrowing in on an area off the coast of North Africa.  

"It's Carcayú, sir!" one of the technicians shouts. "He's on Isla del Carcayú!"

 There's a collective shout and burst of applause from the rest of the bridge, but the celebrations are quickly interrupted by another explosion as something crashes into the outside of the helicarrier. The collision is much stronger this time, like it's closer to the bridge or a much larger projectile than any of the previous impacts. Several techs fall over and Jean and Scott are sent sprawling onto their stomachs.

Fury alone seems unaffected by the tremor, barely shifting in his seat in response. "And where the H-E-double-hockey-sticks is Carcayú?"

"Only ten klicks east, sir," the first technician says. "It's another uninhabited island at the edge of the archipelago."

"Good work," Fury shouts. "Now get us out of here before we all have to learn to swim!"

The technicians return to their displays with renewed focus and soon new orders are being shouted as they struggle to get control over the besieged ship.

Jean realizes that now, while everyone is distracted, is their best chance to escape. She grabs Scott's shirt by the collar. "Come on," she hisses, dragging him after her as she crawls towards the door.  

"What?" Scott asks, looking back over his shoulder nervously as they stumble to their feet and manage to dart around the corner out of view. "Our berth is back that way. Where are we going?"

"To get Ororo and Erik and get the heck outta here!"

Scott comes to a halt, making Jean come to a stop too, her hand jerking hard on the collar of his shirt. "What?" he says. "But the Brotherhood—"

"Scott, come _on_!" she says, throwing up her hands. "If the Mutant Master is Magneto, then how is he currently broadcasting from an island ten klicks away—however far _that_ is?"

"Ten kilometers," Scott says. "And it's probably Mystique," he adds, starting to sound doubtful but still stubbornly sticking to his guns. "Or another trap."

"Why would Mystique be keeping up the Mutant Master charade if it _was_ her? What's the point in pretending they're not the Brotherhood anymore? _I_ think S.H.I.E.L.D. is wrong and Factor Three is not the same as the Brotherhood at all!" Jean pushes Scott a bit on the shoulder even though she already knows she has him convinced by the doubtful tone of his voice. "And even if it _is_ a trap, who cares because it's most likely where the Professor and the others were taken!"

" _Awwww_ —nuts!" Scott says. "You're right, but how are we going to get out of here?"

"First we have to find Ororo!"

They pass a soldier in the hall. He's running toward the bridge like he has a message, but he pauses when he sees Jean and Scott stumbling down the corridor. "Hey, what are you kids doing out here?"

"Uh…" Jean says. She really needs to get better at lying on the spot.

"Director Fury said we're not allowed on the bridge when S-H-I-T is happening," Scott explains.

"Oh," the soldier says. "Well—he's right! Get back to your berth!"

"Yes, sir!" Scott says, and he and Jean take off running before the soldier can change his mind.

Scott and Jean take the emergency stairs, which have all been unlocked thanks to the helicarrier's increasingly unstable flying. They figure that will make it harder for the ship to track their whereabouts, especially now that Jean knows the elevators can talk. Unfortunately, this means climbing down dozens of levels to get to Stark's lab where Ororo is. Scott swears he remembers what deck it's on from the map they saw earlier, but Jean has her doubts.

They're still only halfway there when a huge tremor sends them both flying sideways to smack into the side of the stairwell. Gravity shifts and Jean falls over when she tries to climb back to her feet. It feels like the ship is listing sideways. Did they take out one of the engines?  

"Jean," Scott says. "I think we might be crashing."

"Gosh, you _think?"_

"I hate swimming," Scott says, ignoring her sarcasm and looking glum as he gets to his feet.

"Just hold onto your glasses if we fall into the ocean, okay?" Jean says and Scott nods.

"I think we might need to find a life raft or something and get out of here," he says.

"What about Ororo?" Jean asks.

"She's with Iron Man, I'm sure she'll be fine."

Jean wants to argue, but Scott is already pulling himself out of the staircase and into the corridor on level 27. Thankfully, there are handrails along most of the walls here that they can use to pull themselves along. They might be able to help Erik escape if they could find the brig, but that must be dozens and dozens of decks below them.

A few soldiers pass them in the hallways, but most of them seem too busy to bother stopping Scott and Jean. One woman curses when she sees them, but all she does is pull out two life jackets from a hatch in the wall and snap, "Put these on!"  Jean barely has hers on over her head before the woman is gone, running down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

The life jackets give them some extra padding, which helps with the continued rumbles and shudders as the helicarrier struggles to stay aloft. Jean bounces off a wall as Scott leads her around another twist in the corridor. She's pretty sure that Scott is lost but doesn't want to say anything since she has no idea where they are either.

They come to a three-pronged split in the hallway and stop, unable to decide which path to take. It's starting to get hazy and there's an acidic burning smell in the air. Every corridor is equally smoky and they hesitate for long agonizing seconds trying to decide which way to go. Just then, a door next to them malfunctions and unlatches with a sharp click. It opens into a new corridor that is considerably clearer and they stumble through and close the door behind them.

Jean coughs into her hand, trying to breathe now that they're out of the smoke-filled hallways. "Where should we—"

Another tremor sends them both stumbling to the left and thudding against each other. This time the tremor continues, growing louder and accompanied by the sound of twisting metal. Is the deck buckling under their feet?

A painfully loud metallic screech rends the air and the wall in front of them splits apart like it's being torn open by a can opener. Jean ducks down and covers her head, bracing for the ceiling to fall on top of them.

But instead of collapsing, the trembling in the floor stops and Jean feels a cool breeze and the warmth of sunshine on her face. She raises her head cautiously. Torn petals of metal are bent outward, creating an opening in the deck through several layers of shielding and insulation. The jagged hole perfectly frames a figure outside, suspended in midair with him arms extended. The figure is hard to see in the glare of bright light, but it's wearing a very familiar-shaped helmet and cape.

"…Erik?" Jean says.

"Hi, kids," Erik says. "Come on, we need to go. Now."

Jean and Scott walk carefully out across the jagged metal and step onto a large flat disk Erik has maneuvered next to the deck for them. He guides the disk away from the ship once they're both safely onboard, lifting them up and away from the helicarrier like a flying metal carpet. From outside, the helicarrier looks much the worse for wear. One of the engines appears to be on fire and there are large holes and scorch marks all along the hull.

"You're not the Mutant Master?" Scott asks.

"That's what I told you, isn't it?" Erik says, sounding annoyed. Now that Jean's eyes have adjusted to the light she can see that his helmet and uniform was created entirely from scrap metal, including the loose hanging cape, which is made from hundreds of tiny linked rings.

"Sorry about that," Jean says. "It did look pretty bad." She squints, trying to get a glimpse of his thoughts.

"This is why you should never trust humans above your fellow mutants," Erik says. _This is what comes of Charles' integrationist philosophy teaching them to trust superheroes above their own blood. Lucky they didn't get dissected or shot on sight. At least the human fools brought us straight to Factor Three's lair._

Jean glances sideways at Scott and nods at him. "It's okay," she whispers. "I think we can trust him."

Scott doesn't look fully convinced, but that might just be the strain of holding onto the edges of the metal disk. It's not the most comfortable way to travel.

Erik raises his arms and they rise up higher in the air. "Where's Ororo?" he asks.

"We're… not sure," Jean says.

"You were separated?" Erik asks, his voice rising. " _Never_ let them separate you."

"It was a mistake," Scott says, looking back at the helicarrier, which is now circling precariously close to the blue water below.

"I don't sense her or anything she was carrying nearby," Erik says. "Let's hope she's all right, wherever she is."

"She _was_ with Iron Man," Scott points out.

"Maybe they evacuated already?" Jean suggests.

"Hmph," Erik says. He looks like he's going to continue to lecture them, but something flies toward them from out of the glare of the sun. Erik throws up his arm and the small projectile veers off-course and drops down to the ocean where it lands with a splash. "What?"

A large human figure swoops toward them from the helicarrier while Erik is distracted, rushing up with a whoosh of loud engines. "Let the kids go," a distorted voice says, one arm extended and bristling with weapons. It's Iron Man, but not in his familiar shiny red and gold suit. This one is a dull textured grey color and it's covered in chalk markings like Stark was still engineering it.  

"What, you want me to drop them in the ocean?" Erik asks, nodding toward Scott and Jean. "We don’t have time for this."

"Hi, kids," Iron Man says, waving to them before he turns back to Erik. "What I want is for you to leave them alone." One of the missiles on his suit is starting to flash red with increasing urgency.

"Where's Ororo?" Jean asks, shouting at Iron Man, but he ignores her in favor of moving to get a better angle on Erik.

Erik tilts his head, his eyes flicking up and down Iron Man's body through the slit in his helmet. "Interesting suit."

"Thanks!" Iron Man says. "It's constructed from carbon nanotubes. Very strong and _very_ nonmetallic."

"Hm," Erik says. He closes one hand into a fist and Iron Man's arm jerks downward with a sharp involuntary motion. "Not completely it seems."

"What?"

Erik twists his fist and Iron Man flips on his head, turning upside down in a helpless somersault. "Hey, no fair!" he shouts as a shower of sparks rises out from the neck of him suit. "Copper is nonferrous!"

"My power isn't simply ferrokinesis," Erik explains. "It's _electromagnetism_."

"Well, nuts."

Erik flicks his finger and Iron Man tumbles away to land into the ocean with a splash.

"That was mean," Jean says.

"Oh, he'll be fine," Erik says dismissively. "He's supposedly a genius. Surely he has an emergency eject system in case of a water landing."

The fight with Iron Man has brought them much closer to the slumping helicarrier. Jean can see S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel on the deck running back and forth trying to put out fires and tie down equipment. Their efforts don't seem to be doing much good as the ship continues its slow out-of-control descent down toward the water.

They're close enough to shout and Jean cups her hands around her face, intending to ask if anyone on deck has seen Ororo. But before she can get out a word, there's a loud thump and the floating disk nearly tips over sideways. Jean and Scott both scramble to get a grip as Erik raises his hands to stabilize them. The source of the disturbance is soon clear as a man pulls himself up from the edge. He must have jumped across from the side of the helicarrier.

"Captain America?" Scott asks as Jean says, "Steve?"

"Hi, kids," Steve says, turning to face Erik and standing so the two of them are at his back. He holds his shield up in front of him, although it can't be much protection against Erik's powers.

"Have you seen Ororo?" Scott asks.

"No, but I think Natasha has her. She'll be fine," Steve says, still squaring off against Erik.

"I have no desire to hurt you," Erik says. "I simply wish to escape with all of the children under my charge."

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen," Steve says.

Erik sighs and waves one hand. Steve's shield is wrenched from his grasp. It flies up into the air and falls away in a long arc. "Go back to the ship," Erik says. "Save your compatriots."

"No," Steve says. He raises his hands, making two fists like he intends to fight Erik barehanded.

Erik sighs again. "They're mutants, they're perfectly safe with me. Can you say the same about your own commanders?"  

Steve tenses and clenches his fists. "Of course, what are you saying?"

Erik's eyes dart over to where Jean and Scott are standing before returning to Steve's face. "You asked where I met you as a boy?"

"What?" Steve asks, clearly not following this conversational twist. 

"Bergen-Belsen," Erik says. Scott turns to look at Jean and she shrugs.

"What? What are you—" Steve breaks off, making a startled choking noise. "What are you saying?"

"You want proof?" Erik asks, his voice rising in anger as he lifts his arm and starts peeling off the metal coating his forearm. He starts to push it up like a sleeve, but Steve waves his arms to stop him.

"No, no," he shouts. "That's not—look, that doesn't mean... I still can't let you leave with these kids."

Erik lifts his chin, staring down at him through his eye slits. "And I can't leave the children with you."

Steve pauses, and Jean can see the side of his jaw clenching. "They'll be safe. S.H.I.E.L.D. won't hurt them, I give you my word."

Erik shakes his head. "You're only a soldier, you can't promise that."

"I can! I am!" Steve says, holding out his hands. "S.H.I.E.L.D. would never detain children."

That jolts Jean's memory, making her straighten up and call out, "Then why was Fury thinking about sending us to the Vault?"

"What?" Steve turns toward her, his eyes wide. "That's not—they'd never do that!"

"I heard him thinking it!" Jean says. "It's a prison for mutants, isn't it?"

"No, it's—" Steve pauses, wetting his lips. "It's not just for mutants. It's for any powered criminals." He turns toward Erik and gestures toward him. "Most of the people there are neo-Hydra! They wouldn't put kids in there."

Erik shakes his head. "The question isn't, _would_ they? The question is— _are you going to let them?_ "

Steve stares back at him, his hands held up in a defensive pose as he considers Erik's words. He lets out a long, slow exhale and his shoulders slump as he drops his arms. "Darn it!" he says. "No! Fine. Get out of here before I change my mind!"

Erik smiles in response.

"Darn it!" Steve says again, turning toward Jean and Scott. "Stay safe," he says, hesitating for a moment before he dashes toward the edge of the disk and leaps off the side. He twists through the air and crashes onto the helicarrier deck below with a painful-looking roll.

"Okay," Erik says. "Let's get out of here before another Avenger jumps on board." He motions with his arms and the disk rotates. They turn away from the dismal scene of the flagging helicarrier and toward a tall ridge of rock sticking out of the ocean, approximately a half-mile away. It looks like a pointed row of spines, as if it's the top of some sleeping creature waiting down beneath the waves.

The island looms larger as Erik floats them toward it above the pounding surf. There's smoke coming from several points on the ridge where the helicarrier must have destroyed the island's defenses. If any weapons remain, nothing attempts to attack them as Erik lowers them down to land on a stony black beach of sharp volcanic rock. It's quiet there after the chaos of the helicarrier, nothing but the churning waves and the sound of sea birds.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Unforgotten for beta duty. One more chapter left!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fateful finale!

"Now what?" Jean asks.

Scott shrugs and kicks one of the large chunks of volcanic rock on the beach. It must be heavier than it looks because the rock flops over, barely shifting more than a few inches.

The beach itself is only a thin stretch of dark gravel wrapped around the edges of the island. The black ribbon continues for several hundred yards inland before terminating abruptly at a set of imposing rocky cliffs. Erik has his back to Jean and Scott, having moved further up the beach along the base of the cliff face. He has both arms outstretched, his palms held flat and his hands moving like he's feeling for the electromagnetic lay lines of the island.  

Jean looks over her shoulder at the ocean where the helicarrier is now floundering in the distant waves. It hasn't sunk yet, at least, and if the crew can seal up the holes in the hull they should be able to stay afloat. Still, it doesn't look like S.H.I.E.L.D. will be making their way over to the island any time soon. They're on their own.

There's a crunching sound behind her, and Jean turns to see that Erik has fallen to one knee on the black sand, his hands still outstretched toward the cliffs.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks, jogging up to him.

"Erm," he says in response, gasping and dropping his hands to brace them on the ground. "There's something here, something huge just under the surface of the island."

"You mean it’s hollow? Is it a secret base?" Jean asks.

"It's—I'm not sure. I don't know what technology Factor Three is using but it feels… very strange." Erik shakes his head and raises one hand to adjust his helmet. In the bright light of the tropical sun, Jean can see the mismatched patches of metal he used to piece it together from scraps of the ruined helicarrier. The helmet is made of different bits of silvery, brushed metal, looking more like a medieval knight's helm than Erik's usual brightly colored headpiece. His chainmail cape only adds to his antiquated appearance.

"Can you sense an entrance?" Scott asks.

Erik nods and climbs back to his feet. He uses his fist to steady himself as he gets up and leaves a deep imprint of his knuckles in the sand. "I think so. This way."

Jean and Scott follow Erik as he walks up the beach and starts climbing the larger boulders that lead to the cliff face. The rocks are very sharp and Jean scrapes her palms when she stumbles and catches herself on the ground. She hopes they aren't going very far. Erik is walking very determinately forward like he might be planning on climbing right up the rock wall, which is definitely not going to happen—at least not without any climbing equipment.

"Where are we going?" Scott asks, panting a little as they scramble to keep up with Erik.

Erik shakes his head without looking back at them. His hands are held out in front of him again like he's using his powers as a divining rod. He's weaving back and forth slightly as he walks, as if the magnetic field he's following is wavering back and forth.

He continues right up to the beginning of the cliff face where the ground is scattered with alarmingly large boulders, most of them jagged and broken from falling from the heights. The cliffs sweep inward at their foundation, forming a shallow cavity that's wet with dripping water. Jean suddenly wonders about the tides. She realizes it's very likely this beach doesn't exist when the water is at its peak.

Erik comes to a stop below a craggy overhang that looks perilously close to collapsing. Jean climbs around a tidal pool to join him, staring at Erik's back as he stands with both hands extended outward toward the gloomy black rock face. Scott crunches across the beach until he comes up to stand next to them. "So…?" he asks.

"There's a door," Erik says.

Jean squints into the shadows but sees nothing resembling a door in front of them. She turns to look at Scott, but he's already stepping forward to examine the rocks. "I don't see any joints," he says. "Can you open it?"

Erik grunts low in his throat in response and stretches the fingers of his outstretched hand wide. Several long seconds pass while he strains and his hands shake. Jean is about to suggest they try something else when there's a soft metallic creak, the sound muted through layers of rock. Erik grunts again and the rock face in front of them cracks suddenly, forming a perfect square as it screeches and begins to open upward like a garage door.

The opening is roughly six feet high and six feet wide, low enough that Erik has to stoop as they step inside. The walls form a long metal tunnel that extends straight into the island at a slight downward slope. There are dim lights running along the walls, glowing with a strange purple light that extends far into the distant gloom.

"Um…" Jean says, not sure if it's a good idea to walk right inside.

"Let's go," Erik says, stepping past her and leading the way with fast strides. Scott jumps to follow him and Jean has to jog to catch up. She glances back over her shoulder, watching the warm light of the beach receding behind them as they go further into the depths underground.

The passageway continues straight for a very long time. Jean's not entirely sure how big the island itself is, but it feels like they must be halfway across the narrow stretch of volcanic ridge. Their footsteps echo strangely off the metal walls, making it sound like there’s someone walking behind them, although no one is there whenever Jean turns around. She can also hear a soft plunking noise, like a leaky faucet or pebbles dropping to the ground somewhere up ahead.

Erik is still striding forward like he's eager to meet whatever is at the passage's end. He's walking so fast that Jean and Scott have to struggle to keep up with him. Jean is not especially keen to meet Factor Three’s leader—the Mutant Master, or whoever he is—but she can't stop the hope kindling in her chest that they might find the Professor and the X-Men here.

After what feels like over a mile of walking, the tunnel comes to an end. It widens suddenly and opens into a vast underground vault hundreds of feet high. Erik stops as soon as they're inside and turns slowly, looking up at the ceiling and walls which are streaked with veins of purple and green light.   

Whatever this place is, it's extensive. It's not simply a bolthole or a safe house, but a true base built deep into the interior of the island. Jean can hear the rhythmic plunking noise louder now. It echoes throughout the chamber and the very air seems to throb with it like a heartbeat. Jean cranes her neck looking up and realizes that the lights are pulsing in time with the noise. She feels a wave of dizziness and has to close her eyes for a moment until it passes.

"What _is_ this?" Scott asks.

"I don't know," Erik says. "The walls… the material is metallic but I've never felt anything like it."

There's something at the center of the room—a raised dais like a control panel or an altar. Jean starts toward it. Her stomach is churning with anxiety. The whole room makes her feel uncomfortable and exposed.

There are grooves running along the floor from each corner of the room toward the central platform, as if there are pipes and wires flowing toward it. Or maybe away from it, drawing power from its source.

Jean can hear Scott's tennis shoes scuffing across the uneven floor as he runs to follow her toward the center of the room. Erik is floating now, his hands held out at his sides as he rises up to watch for threats from the dark corners of the room.

As Jean approaches, she sees that the platform is actually a series of large tubes lined up one after another in a tight circle. The tubes are lying on their sides, each one tapering toward a central point that’s glowing purple and pulsing with that steady relentless heartbeat of the room.

The tubes are opaque, just transparent enough to reveal the shadows of something inside as the light grows brighter and then fades. Jean breaks out into a run for the last few feet, knowing even before she reaches them what she'll see.

There's people inside, each tube holding a person lying on his or her back. The light dims as Jean pushes her face against the cold side of one of the tubes, her breath fogging the clear material and blocking her sight. She presses both hands against it and stares as the light pulses brighter and the condensation melts away. She sees a glimpse of a bald head and a familiar face before the light fades.

"It's him!" Jean shouts. "It's Professor Xavier!"

"Are you sure?" Erik asks, his voice reverberating off the high ceiling near where he's hovering.

Jean doesn't answer, too busy beating her fists against the side of the tube trying to wake the Professor. She can't tell if he's breathing or not; the light is too weak and the shadows are constantly shifting as it throbs. It might be Jean's imagination, but the thrumming noise seems to be speeding up, going faster as her own panic builds.

The tube makes her think of iron lungs or stasis pods in science fiction movies. She runs her hands over it, searching frantically for a button or a hatch or controls of any kind. Scott reaches her and joins the search, hunting over the edges of the tube and pounding his hands against it helplessly.

"Stand back!" Erik is floating above them now, his fists clenched and his impromptu chainmail cape rippling behind him as he concentrates. Scott and Jean both scramble to back away as the light grows brighter and pulses ever faster. The thrumming noise is louder now as well, pounding in Jean's ears even stronger than her own racing heartbeat.

The light strobes across Erik's strained face and the reflected patches of his helmet and costume. It builds higher and higher to a crescendo that shakes the entire room, the vast vault trembling with an earthquake that sends Jean and Scott stumbling to the ground.

With one final white flash, the pulsing light ceases and so too does the rumbling all around them. Erik lands on the ground with a discordant clank of metal. He's breathing heavily and leaning on his knees, exhausted by his efforts. At the same moment, the tubes open as one, fissures appearing in the opaque sides where before the material was completely smooth and unbroken. There's a loud hiss of air as the tubes split open, revealing the faces of the prisoners trapped inside of them.

Behind her, Jean can hear Scott yelling, his voice rising excitedly as he says, "Alex!"

But Jean doesn't turn to look for Scott's brother, too focused on the tube in front of her holding her mentor. She runs to the Professor and falls to her knees next to him. His face looks pale and thin in the dim light, lit only by the distant purple luminaries on the high ceiling above them. He's wearing the same suit he had on the day he disappeared, the fabric rumbled and badly in need of ironing. The effect is horribly like looking at him lying in a coffin. Jean wants to check for his pulse, but she can't bring herself to touch him, too afraid that if she does she'll find his skin cold and waxy.

Jean is saved from her indecision when the Professor twitches slightly, convulsing with a harsh noise that is somewhere between a cough and a groan. Jean startles and then leans forward over him. "Professor?"

He shakes his head and slowly blinks open his eyes, squinting like even the room’s low lights are painful to look at. "Jean? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me!" Jean moves closer, leaning forward to help as the Professor struggles up to rest on one elbow. "Me and Scott and Mr. Lehnsherr are here. We came searching for you!"

"…Erik?" the Professor asks, giving her a confused look.

"Hello, Charles," Erik says, coming to stand behind Jean with a soft jangling sound. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and inhales slowly, rubbing his forehead like it aches. "By any chance, do you sense my wheelchair nearby?"

Erik turns with a frown, looking around the room. "No, but there's a lot of metal here. The complex is vast and…very odd."

"Yes, I would imagine so."

"What is this place, Professor?" Jean asks.

He opens his eyes, looking at her with the searching expression she remembers from countless classroom lessons. "Would you believe that it’s a ship?"

"What, the room?" Erik asks. He sounds skeptical, like he thinks the Professor might not be fully recovered from having been imprisoned in the tube.

"The entire base, actually," the Professor says, turning his gaze upward toward Erik's doubtful face.

There are groans in the background as the other people imprisoned in the tubes begin to wake up and climb out. To the left of the Professor is the familiar fuzzy face of Hank, his blue fur looking dull and unkempt.

"Professor!" Scott hobbles up to them with Alex, who is holding tightly to his younger brother's shoulders. "I found Alex! And Sean too and Mystique, everyone's here! The X-Men and the Brotherhood and more people I don't know. Everyone is waking up!"

The Professor nods, his face grave. "Are you all right, Alex?"

"I am now," Alex says, glancing down at Scott as he hugs him closer. "What's going on? We came looking for you and—and I'm not sure what happened. Somehow we all ended up here"

"It seems that was the intention, yes," Erik says. "To lure us mutants—some in groups, some singly—to be ambushed and brought here. But... to what purpose?"

"I believe that I can enlighten—" The Professor cuts himself off as a sound echoes through the high ceilings of the vault. It's a strange jabbering—a voice that grows louder before it finally resolves into laughter, high-pitched and manic.

"Fools!" The voice booms, multiplying as it echoes off the walls and dissolves once more into mad laughter. "You think you can defeat the masterful might of the **_Mutant Master_** _?_ "

"The what now?" Alex asks, giving Erik a confused look.

"No," Erik says, crossing his arms. "It's not me."

The Mutant Master laughs again at this and they all turn to see a figure stepping out of the shadows at the edges of the room. It's a tall man wearing a deep purple and blue outfit topped with an elaborate visor that covers his eyes. Jean's never seen anyone like him, and neither has anyone else based their collective confused looks.

"I should say you're not me!" the Mutant Master says, spreading his arms wide in a theatrical gesture. "The **Mutant Master** would never allow himself to be captured so **easily** by such a poor foe as the Avengers!"

Erik blanches. "I allowed myself to be captured so they would bring me to _you,_ idiot."

"A very convenient explanation for an embarrassing blunder!" The man points toward Erik, letting out a loud and fake-sounding scoff. "Further proof that, I, the **Mutant Master** , am the true leader of mutantkind!"

The Professor clears his throat, holding up a hand to stop Erik from spitting out yet another retort. "Yes, I'm sure we all remember what you call yourself. But that doesn't really answer the question of who you actually are."

"There is nothing **more** to know!" the Mutant Master shrieks. "I am the Master, the **greatest** of all mutants! And you will obey me or **_perish!_** "

"Enough!" Erik shouts. He throws out one hand, his fingers spread wide as the Mutant Master goes flying into the far wall. Erik smiles with satisfaction as the man thuds to the ground—but his triumph is short-lived. In moments, the Mutant Master leaps back to his feet and points his finger. A bolt of white-hot energy bursts out of his fingertip and flies straight toward Erik, who barely manages to dodge out of the way.

The Professor lets out a shout and throws up his hands, covering his head as the bolt of light explodes only a few feet away from him. "Erik!" he snaps, but it's too late; the fight has begun.

Jean runs behind Scott as he lifts his glasses to aim a bolt of his own energy beams at the Mutant Master. There's a loud _ZZZZZZTTTT_ but Jean doesn't turn to see if Scott hit anything. Instead, she runs up to the Professor and helps him struggle down from the open tube onto the ground.They crouch there, using the machine for cover.

Erik is ripping huge cables out of the ceiling and walls as he chases the Mutant Master around the room, pursued by the other newly freed mutants. Hank seems to be using one of the loose cables as a vine to swing from, while Sean is screaming wildly, accidentally blasting out the ears of half their allies. Meanwhile, a huge heavyset man Jean has never seen before seems to be trying to trap the Mutant Master by squashing him under his own bulk.

The Professor sighs and runs his hand from the crown of his head down to his cheek and neck. "I need a shave."

He does. He has a good week's worth of facial hair and Jean can see the edges of his receding hairline high on top of his head where he normally shaves it bald. "I like it," Jean says. "Maybe you should keep the beard?"

He shrugs. "I used to have one back in the early 70s, but I shaved it off to make myself look more respectable when I reopened the school." There's a loud explosion and the whiplash snap of Azazel teleporting across the room.  "I suppose we should do something before someone gets hurt."

"Can you stop them?" Jean asks, rising up to her knees to peer out at the chaos. There's a lot of smoke and debris in the air now, making it difficult to see what’s happening.

"I'm feeling very weak. That machine seems to have drained my powers." The Professor holds out his hand, offering it to her. "But with your help, I think we can do it, Jean."

Jean takes his hand and closes her eyes. Stepping into the warm open space of the Professor’s mind feels like coming home after a very long trip.

_Hello, Jean._

_I missed you, Professor._

_And I, you. However did you find me?_

Jean remembers the past few days, opening up her memories so the Professor can experience them with her.

_Oh, dear. It seems you've had a very exciting time. I'm glad Erik was there to help. Calling him was a very… creative solution._

_I know, it was probably a mistake._ Jean can hear confused shouts coming from the fight now as well as an unsettling crunching sound.

_No, that's precisely why I have that number—in case of emergencies. You never know, and it all worked out in the end._

_Except S.H.I.E.L.D. knows all about the X-Men now,_ Jean says, frowning and wishing they hadn’t failed to protect the Professor’s secrets.

But he only shakes his head. _No, it’ll be all right. Honestly, I suspect they already knew the location of the mansion._

Jean startles at that, looking at him. “What?”

_Well, it’s not that hard to connect the Dr. Xavier who published a thesis on mutation in the 60s and worked with the C.I.A. to Professor X, the mysterious leader of the X-Men, who is also coincidentally paralyzed and in a wheelchair._

Jean rather wishes she had known that a few days ago when they were debating whether or not to tell the Avengers about the X-Men’s disappearance.

 _Anyway, water under the bridge._ The Professor gives her a soothing smile. _Now, why don’t you help me calm things down here?_

Jean nods and she feels the Professor extending his influence and reaching _through_ her, manipulating her powers as easily as if they were his own. He spreads out tendrils of thought until he locates all of the minds in the room—Erik and Scott and Alex and Hank and Sean and his sister and all the others, each mind deftly held in place with a single thought. _Stop._

At the center of those dozens of minds is another, unfamiliar one. This mind feels much larger than the others, and strangely confined. It’s as if it's trapped in a container too small for its vast expanse. The Professor pushes out farther, trying to force his way into that last mind and thinking again, _STOP._

There's a sharp stab of pain as the mind pushes back, shoving the Professor's influence away before he can take hold.

 _Jean, I could use your help with this one,_ the Professor says.

Jean nods and closes her eyes tightly, concentrating as they both reach out together. She brushes the edge of that strange, vast, empty mind and pushes, pressing in like an insect scuttling across the thin rim of water over a lake. She can feel the mind fighting back against her, but she presses further, pushing against the resistance until she sees—stars.

A thousand points of light scattered across the velvet black of the void. A thousand year journey through cold vacuum, traveling for years and passing little more than bare asteroids floating in the emptiness. Endless nothingness and death until—there—a glowing pinprick of light. A star circled by gas giants, a thin asteroid belt, and at the closest orbit, four rocky planets. One of those planets shines blue in the darkness, glowing with heat, with activity, with _life_.

Jean gasps and pulls away, stumbling to her feet. "He's an alien!"

"Oh my," the Professor says. He has one hand raised and his fingers are pressed hard into his temple, his forehead creased with concentration. "I was not expecting that." _Everyone, come here. To me!_

There's a clatter of footsteps as the mass of mutants shake themselves loose of the Professor's influence and come limping back to stand around him and Jean. The Mutant Master walks at the front, his hands loose at his sides. His face is slack, clearly under the control of the Professor as he comes to a stop only a few feet away from Jean.

The others approach more slowly and come to stand in a loose circle around them. Hank is holding onto his ribs like he bruised them, and the cut above Erik's ear has reopened, causing blood to drip down his neck from under his helmet. Scott has ripped a hole in the knee of his pants, but otherwise looks unhurt. He's also still staring up at Alex worshipfully, clearly relieved his brother is all right.

"What do you mean 'alien,'" Mystique asks, pushing her way to the front of the group.

"Precisely that," the Professor says. He raises a hand toward the Mutant Master and grimaces. For a moment, nothing happens, but then the Mutant Master begins to swell. His body seems to expand outward, growing like a balloon and losing shape as bizarre contours and tentacles bulge outward from his body.

Soon he's no longer a man at all, but an enormous floating cuttlefish.

The group exclaims with surprise and disgust at this transformation, most of them backing up several feet. "Oh my stars and garters!" Hank says, stumbling over Azazel's tail.

"Aliens," Erik says, his lip curling. "Of course it’s aliens."

"So… he's not really a mutant?" Scott asks.  

"Nor human," the Professor says. "Although he seems to consider himself a mutant of his own species. Perhaps that’s how he survived the cataclysm that destroyed his world. He came to earth looking for an energy source. He wanted to power a machine designed to bring life back to his own decimated planet. And here he found it."

"Mutants," Erik says, grimly folding his arms.

"Yes," the Professor says. "I don't fully understand how, but somehow his ship was draining our lifeforce and using our collective powers like a battery."

Erik shakes his head. " _Aliens_ ," he says, muttering it darkly under his breath.

"Then, Factor Three," Mystique says. "And the mutant-investigation program at the NATO base—"

"Yes," the Professor nods. "All an elaborate series of traps to draw out the world's mutants and capture them for his own purposes."

The Mutant Master gurgles slightly. "And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those meddling brats."

"Yes, quite," the Professor says. He puts his hand on Jean's shoulder and smiles at her and then at Scott. "You three did an excellent job rescuing us. I'm really very proud—wait a minute, where's Ororo?"

Jean looks at Scott and then at Erik, who both look startled. They'd all forgotten Ororo was still missing. She must still be back on the helicarrier, probably a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D. Assuming, that is, she survived the crash.

Jean opens her mouth, searching for an explanation to give the Professor, but before she can get a word out there's a loud rumble in the distance, like an explosion just outside.

The ground beneath their feet begins to tremble and the ceiling above splits open, a crack forming straight down the center and gradually widening. The ship trembles as the vaulted ceiling retracts, opening to reveal the bright blue sky above.

There's another distant rumble, closer this time, and Jean realizes that the sound must be thunder. But how can there be thunder if there are no clouds in the sky?

She looks up just in time to see a brilliant white bolt of lightning strike the ground only a few dozen feet away from where they’re standing. Everyone in the group flinches at the incredibly bright light and loud crack, the bolt seemingly coming from nowhere.

A loud piercing shout follows the lightning bolt. There's someone floating down toward them, what looks like a large man with a long trailing cape, one hand raised high above him head. As the man comes closer, Jean realizes that he’s holding something in his arms—a tiny figure dressed in white, like a small child.

"Ororo!" Jean shouts, stumbling to her feet and running to meet them. The man carrying Ororo lands lightly on his feet and brandishes a large hammer over his head in greeting. He's wearing a heavy metal breastplate and a large helmet with two golden wings on its sides. Jean slows down as she gets closer, suddenly feeling shy. "…Ororo?"

"Greetings, Marvel Girl!" Ororo yells, holding up one fist in an imitation of the man's own pose. "It is I, the Cloudrider!"

"Hello, mutants!" the man holding her says cheerfully. "Your trusted companion requested that I help her return to your side."

"Hi, Thor," Scott says, coming up behind Jean. "Um, Mr. Odinson. Sir."

"Hello, Cyclops of the red lightning! And well-met, Marvel Girl. Cloudrider has told me much about you both and your brave adventures."

"We went flying!" Ororo says, unnecessarily. "And threw lightning bolts together!"

"Oh," Jean says. "Um, it's a nice to meet you, Mr. Thor. We heard you went back to Asgard."

"I did," Thor says. He lowers himself to the ground, dropping to one knee so Ororo can climb down from her perch on his shoulders. "But I returned when I heard my friends, the gallant Avengers, were in danger. Alas, it seems I was too late for the battle here!"

Jean glances back at the gathered mass of mutants. They're all staring open-mouthed at Thor, except for Erik who has a vaguely annoyed expression on his face. He mouths something to himself that might be, " _aliens_."

"Uh, yeah, it was pretty exciting," Jean says, turning back to Thor. "But we took care of it."

Thor throws back his head and laughs in a manner that might best be described as "lustily." "So you did! I am very sorry I missed the mêlée but it seems you have the adversary well in hand." Thor motions toward the Mutant Master, who is still floating in a vague daze under the influence of the Professor. "If you are done interrogating the cur, perhaps it would be best if I took him into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody? I understand they have a large dungeon that might be used to contain him."

"Is everyone else okay?" Scott asks. "On the helicarrier, I mean? It was crashing when we left."

Thor nods. "Yes, the fire is under control now and it's floating safely. But I'm afraid it will be quite some time before it is capable of flight once more."

The Professor clears his throat. "If it's not too much trouble, I think it would be best if we surrendered the Mutant Master to you, Thor, and then… took our leave."

Thor laughs again, delighted by the Professor's irony. "A fair plan, good Professor. I will take my leave then." He nods toward Ororo. "Godspeed, Cloudrider! It was an honor to fly with you."

Ororo holds up her fist in response, striking a dramatic pose as Thor lifts the Mutant Master's huge betentacled bulk over his head. He hefts his war hammer in his other hand and with a twitch of his wrist sets it spinning. The group collectively gapes as he takes off and zooms upward into the sky.

"Well," the Professor says, blinking as he looks away from Thor's retreating figure. "Has anyone seen my wheelchair?"

"I could make you one," Erik says, glancing around at the scattered debris left behind by the fight. "Assuming you don't mind it being made out of strange alien metal."

"I would greatly appreciate that, Erik. Also, I believe the Blackbird should be somewhere nearby…?"

Erik nods, looking distracted as he begins to assemble pieces of metal in the air and reshape them into two wheels. "Yes, it's two caverns over to the left."

"Hank, Alex?" the Professor says, looking toward them. "Would you be so kind as to begin the preflight checks?” The Professor raises his voice, speaking to the gathered crowd. “Anyone who would like a lift and would prefer not to encounter S.H.I.E.L.D. again is welcome to come with us."

There’s a murmur of agreement as Hank and Alex jog off—Alex patting Scott on the shoulder before he goes. Erik finishes assembling the new wheelchair and lowers it next to where the Professor is sitting awkwardly on the ground.

"Lovely, thank you, Erik." The Professor pulls the chair closer and locks the brakes as he pulls himself up to sit in it. "Oh, that's much better."

Mystique walks up as the Professor is still settling himself, trailed by a woman with grey hair who seems to be working with her. "We would appreciate a ride," Mystique says, her scales rippling from blue to peach to back to blue again.

"Yes, of course," the Professor says. "Hello, Raven, how are you?"

"I've been better," Mystique says, turning to glare in Erik's direction. "I can't believe you convinced me to team up again. I knew you would screw everything up."

"How did _I_ screw—"

The Professor clears his throat. "Little pitchers," he says, nodding his head toward Ororo, who has come over to hug him.

Erik snarls before correcting himself. "—mess this up? _Your_ team was the one that got captured!"

"Only because you took off and weren't there to help us!" Mystique says, her hands tightening into fists.

"You wouldn't have needed me at all if you'd gotten in undetected like we planned!"

" _You_ were the backup plan,” Mystique says, poking him in his chest. “You know, in case anything went wrong—which it did!"

"Plans require improvisation!" Erik says, throwing up his hands in frustration. "I improvised!"

The Professor clears his throat, growing progressively louder as they ignore him at first. "My understanding is that if Erik hadn't left to help the children when he did, he most likely would have been captured along with Mystique and the rest of the Brotherhood—"

"Sisterhood," Mystique corrects him. The woman with grey hair smiles and the two exchange a quick glance like this is an inside joke between them.

"Sisterhood of Mutants," the Professor continues. He turns to look back at Jean, Scott, and Ororo. "We should all be glad that you three were able to mount a rescue effort and come find us."

"I helped," Erik says.

"Yes, and I'm very grateful for that," the Professor says, glancing at him with a smile. "Will you be coming with us as well, old friend?"

Erik sighs. "I suppose."

"Wonderful, the boys should have the Blackbird ready by now. Shall we?" The Professor unlocks his brakes and twists one wheel to turn himself around, rolling carefully past the scattered bits of twisted metal and rock all over the ground. Jean takes Ororo's hand as she follows with Scott close beside her.

"I hope it wasn't too scary while I was gone!" The Professor says. "You all did a marvelous job finding us."

"It was _awesome_ ," Ororo says, happily skipping along next to Jean. "We almost got arrested, and then we stole a car, and we went camping, and we got in a fight with the Avengers!"

"I see," the Professor says, arching one eyebrow as he looks toward Erik.

"You've done a terrible job educating them," Erik says. "They don't know the first thing about mutant pride."

"Mutants are better than humans," Ororo says in agreement. "Humans are boring and stupid!"

"Sssh," Jean hisses, squeezing Ororo's hand in a warning. "Don't say that!"

The Professor sighs. "My dear, that's not..." he sighs again. "Let's get home first. I can start deprogramming you there."  

" _Deprogramming?_ " Erik repeats, clearly deeply offended. "Do mean squashing their natural superiority with lies about how humanity is our equals?"

"Please," the Professor says, rubbing at his temple like his head hurts. "Not now, Erik."

Erik hrumphs, but stops arguing. The five of them continue together in silence, leaving the destroyed alien ship and continuing down the corridor to the hanger where the Blackbird is stashed.

Next stop, home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mutant Master is a actual 60s X-Men villain from the silver age. And, yes, [he’s really an alien cuttlefish in the comics.](http://cygnaut.tumblr.com/post/111344599521/the-rise-and-anticlimactic-fall-of-the-mutant) From Siris, natch.
> 
> When I started posting this, I fully expected to be jossed by Days of Future Past (which I was), but I was not expecting to be jossed by the Winter Soldier. Erik is going to be SO insufferable when he finds out that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been infiltrated by Hydra for years. I told you we couldn’t trust them, Charles. Nazis, actual fricking NAZIS.
> 
> Thanks to unforgotten and sadcypress for beta duty and for being supportive throughout. And thanks to everyone for reading!
> 
> I also posted a tiny deleted scene [here. ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1260490/chapters/7582748)


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